A Bone Studded Collar
by Zinc10
Summary: McCoy is recently divorced and quickly becoming addicted to alcohol when he unintentionally begins a strange relationship with a man who calls himself Master Jim. D/s Rated M for McCoy's swearing, adult relationships/situations and sexual scenes.
1. A Drunken Phone Call

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter one: A Drunken Phone Call

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters.

X

Leonard McCoy didn't usually read the newspaper anymore, not since his life had turned into a pile of cooked fuck. So it was a stupid coincidence really, that he found Jim's ad in the classified section.

That night, a Tuesday, Leonard McCoy was doing what always did, now a days, when he didn't have to work the next day: drink himself stupid. So fucking stupid, in fact, that he spilled a half empty cup of bourbon on the crappy apartment carpet.

Swearing, McCoy decided that the pile of newspapers that had been slowly accumulating for the past eight months could actually be put to use. He stumbled over to pile, grabbed a handful of folded up papers and half spread, half chucked some _Riverside Daily_'s onto the stain. He then proceeded to trip, falling forward onto the pages. Luckily he had enough instincts left to cover his face as he fell, so he didn't break anything. The last thing he needed was a damn concussion or a broken nose.

Grunting, he managed to turn himself over onto his back, but then didn't have the coordination or will to move much further. Not even when he felt the back of his shirt start to absorb most of the spilled bourbon. By morning it would be sticky and reek of alcohol. He'd have to wash it before he could ever wear it again. But Leonard didn't much care at the moment.

He turned his face to the right to see a piece of _The Riverside Daily_ sticking straight up about four inches away from his face. He glared at it for a moment, as if all his troubles were the damn newspapers fault for not lying on the floor correctly, before giving up. He was too tired and too drunk to hold a grudge. After a moment his eyes kind of automatically started to read the headlines of the small newspaper blurbs visible to them.

_Job opening for a secretary possition_. Ha. Judging by the tiny font, the typo, and the dwindling economy, the company that put up that ad wasn't gonna last much longer.

_Bike tires! SALE! Now 3% off! - _ Seriously? Three percent off? Why the fuck would you even advertise that?

_Looking for a dog. _

_Pizza at an actual Italian pizzeria? _

Wait. What? Dog? Who would put that in a newspaper? Leonard looked back at the dog article, and after the letters stopped moving around so damn much, read the full ad.

_Looking for a dog. _

_ Does not have to be trained, but must be willing to learn. Male. Can't be too young; at least 25 years old. If you have such a pet, and want to part with him, contact master Jim at - _

Twenty-five years old? What kind of idiot wanted a 25-year-old dog? Dogs don't even live that long! He wasn't a vet, but back on the farm on Georgia even the healthiest dog didn't live beyond 15. And what was with the "master"? Whoever that stupid kid was, he sure had an ego.

McCoy stared at the newspaper for a while. Stared and tried to keep regret and shame from clawing at his guts, it had been near choking him for months.

A dog. Wouldn't it be nice to be a dog? To not have to worry about a bitch of an ex-wife, or medical review panels, or the morality of assisted suicide, or if he would ever see his daughter again. Joanna. Shit. A dog wouldn't fucking care if he had to move to a crappy, fungus infected apartment in the middle of bum-fuck nowhere because no hospital would accept him anymore. A dog would be ridiculously happy as long as his master praised him.

Master.

Master Jim.

Fuck.

That couldn't be what the ad was actually saying, was it? Was this "dog" thing some kind of codeword for some creepy-as-shit sex thing? That would explain why this "master Jim" person asked for a dog "at least 25 years old".

Leonard had both learned about and seen some weird fetishes. In med school they spent a day in a medical professionalism seminar talking about the weird things they could encounter. Teaching that, should a grown man in a bird costume come to the ER with an egg stuck up his ass, medical doctors were still to treat him with utmost respect, and not judge him in any way.

After McCoy graduated and started working in a hospital, he could safely guarantee that the bird-man wasn't actually the weirdest or stupidest thing people had done to themselves for the sake of sexual pleasure. Infections in private places (you stuck your _what_ into a _what?_), and all kinds of things were shoved up asses and vaginas that really shouldn't be (Christmas ornaments? You do realize that if that flimsy glass ball had broken and pierced through your large intestine wall, you could have died when the bacteria in your feces infected your bloodstream, right?). Men came in with their penises trapped in the stupidest of things (a toaster? Good lord why would anyone do that, ever?), or broken due to a sex act gone wrong. Burns, gashes, cuts, and bruises all for the sake of pleasure. So yes, Leonard McCoy was no stranger to weird fetishes.

Relatively speaking, a dog fetish sounded a lot safer than most of the things he'd had to deal with in the emergency room. What would a dog fetish even consist of anyway? An unbidden image of him in a furry dog suit shuffling around on all fours came into his head. Leonard quickly banned the thought. That was the least attractive thing ever.

McCoy read the ad again, and again, until his drunken brain decided that it would be a _great_ idea to call this "master Jim" and find out if it really was a weird sex ad or if it was just some confused egotistical kid who wanted a dog. He really, really wanted to know now. Leonard told himself it was out of strict curiosity for the newspaper's screening process, and not out of any personal interest, that he started groping around for his cell phone.

Where did he put it? It was around here somewhere… Oh right, his pocket. Pulling out the phone, which had seen better days, Leonard started dialing the number on the ad.

After the third ring, Leonard started to think that maybe this was just a weird prank or something. He should hang up but he didn't want to move his arm. The phone rang again, and again, and McCoy's eyelids were just starting to get really heavy when the call was suddenly answered by an angry and sleepy voice.

"Who the hell is calling me at three am?" the voice growled; McCoy shivered. The voice didn't sound like that of a little kid's, but that didn't prove Jim didn't want a 25-year-old dog.

"I, uhh…" He really should have thought this through, "I saw your ad, um, in the newspaper." How old was that newspaper? Days? Weeks? "I'm um, calling about the dog."

There was a short silence, and Leonard could hear some ruffling of cloth, "What's your name?"

A bell went off in Leonard's head; he shouldn't give out his real name to a complete stranger who might have a weird dog-fetish. "Karl uh, Karl Urban"

The stranger hummed, "and how old is the dog?"

"Thirty five" Leonard just wanted to see if this Jim character would guess that no dog could live to be 35, assuming that the voice was just an idiot kid and not a dog-fetish-person. It was really just a coincidence that Leonard's own age was thirty-five.

"Tell me, Mr. Karl Urban," his voice was strangely captivating. It was smooth as honey, yet still commanding. Hell, if this man were a politician, Leonard would vote for him regardless of his political views. "Where might I be able to find you should I wish to inspect this dog?"

That was a good question, what _was_ the address of this crappy apartment? While alarm bells had rung when the voice asked for his name, Leonard's drunken mind saw it as a challenge when the voice asked for his address. His mind was slow due to the liquor, but the address did float up out of the fog eventually, and Leonard gave it to the voice with a tired huff. Thinking was harder than it should be.

"Good job" the voice congratulated him with a purr, and Leonard felt a thrill of pride. The voice was proud of him! Fuck. When was the last time anyone had been proud of him for anything? Leonard couldn't remember.

"You don't happen to know the breed of the dog, do you?" The voice asked lightly.

Shit. It really was just an idiot kid looking for an older than possible dog. An idiot kid with a great voice. Leonard wondered if the voice, the idiot kid, this "master Jim", would be mad at him for lying, for being a drunk-off-his-ass loser who calls numbers written in the newspaper in the middle of the god-damn night to find out if the receiver has a dog-fetish.

Leonard swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't want to hear it. He didn't want to hear the voice chide him, or yell at him, or tell him how much of a screw up he was.

Leonard hung up. He stared at the phone for a while, his finger still pressing the "end call" button, before deciding that he needed go to bed. If he slept on the floor his back would make him regret it in the morning.

Dragging himself upright was more of a challenge than it should rightfully be, but he managed to bring himself to his feet after three tries. Shoulders hunched, Leonard shuffled over to the pullout couch that served as a bed, took off his wet and sticky shirt, and collapsed onto the couch.

With any luck, he thought as he fell into blessed unconsciousness, both he and the voice called Jim would have forgotten about the whole stupid incidence by morning.

X

There was a pounding in his head, as if a monster was trying to break out of it and split his skull open in the process. Leonard groaned and clutched his head, burying himself deeper under the blanket. Hangovers sucked.

Dehydration, his doctor mind told him, alcohol is a poison that targets your kidneys and liver, it dehydrates you. Get some water. McCoy raised his head slowly, dizziness making his vision swim.

The pounding stopped. Wait… what? No, his brain still hurt like a bitch, throbbing with every heartbeat. But there had been a different pounding. The sounds came again, and this time Leonard realized it was knocking. Knocking on his door.

He got out of the couch slowly, so as not to jolt his head, and walked toward the door. It was probably the landlady. Hadn't he already paid this month's rent? Leonard stumbled over an empty wine bottle, only catching himself in the last second. Cursing, he kicked it out of the way.

Reaching the door, Leonard flicked open the lock and pulled. Before him stood a man. A tall, blond, impatient looking man that could probably model for men's underwear. Definitely not the landlady. When McCoy opened the door, the man removed his hand from where it was raised to knock again. His facial expression turned from impatient to judgmental as he took in McCoy's state.

Leonard looked down at himself. He was shirtless, still wearing the pants from yesterday; he probably smelled like alcohol, he was slouching and clearly hung-over.

"Uhh…." Leonard said intelligently.

"Hello, 'Mr. Karl Urban'. I've come to insect the dog. Can't really take in a pet if I don't think we'd get along, now can I?" The way the man said "Mr. Karl Urban" made it quite clear that he didn't believe for one second that it was Leonard's real name.

_Shit, shit._ What was the name of the guy he'd called yesterday? Mark? Max? Matt? Whatever. Wait, what dog? Oh shit, right. That guy wanted to buy a really old dog. "Look, uh, Mark?"

"It's Jim." Weird, Leonard could have sworn it started with an "M". Guess his memory of last night wasn't as good as he thought it was.

"Right, Jim. Look, I don't have a dog. Last night was just a stupid drunken phone call… and uhh…"

"May I come in?" Jim asked lightly, as if McCoy hadn't said anything. When McCoy didn't respond, partially due to dumbfoundedness and partially due to his hangover, Jim pushed past him lightly with a smile and a "thank you," as if the doctor had ushered him in.

Jim looked around the apartment. It only had two rooms, a bathroom, and a room that served as bedroom, kitchen, dining room, and living room. Jim's eyes were scrutinizing and judgmental, Leonard couldn't help but follow the man's gaze. His eyes looked over the dirty floor, every corner and unused inch covered in empty or almost empty bottles or wine, whiskey and bourbon. The sink was full of dirty dishes; the small table next to the sink was also covered in dirty dishes. The couch was still pulled out and the one blanket Leonard owned was scrunched up in a corner, along with about half his wardrobe. The other half of his wardrobe was thrown into a pile inside the open dresser next to the couch. A section of the floor was covered in newspaper, the paint on the walls was peeling, revealing patches of a horrid yellow color amongst the white. The whole place reeked of alcohol, partially due to the spills on the floor, and partially due to the excess of bottles.

Jim looked back at him in obvious disappointment, and Leonard couldn't help but look away in shame. Humiliation choked him, and for a while it was difficult to breath. Then something broke through, and instead of shame McCoy felt anger. Who was this guy to barge into his house and judge him? He had no damn right! "Look Jim," McCoy spat out the name with disgust, "I don't have a damn dog, so get the fuck out of my house. You have no damn right-!"

"Is this yours?" Jim interrupted him lightly, holding up one of Leonard's medical textbooks.

"So what if it is?" Leonard growled. His anger died down a bit. He was a doctor! So take that with your disapproving scrutiny and eat it!

"You were a doctor?" Jim asked, opening the book and flipping through some of the pages.

"I _am_ a damn doctor," Leonard growled.

Jim shot him a disbelieving look, "It's two pm on a Wednesday." The obvious implication being that McCoy was not at work and therefore unemployed.

McCoy crossed his arms and glared defensively, "I work at a clinic downtown. People don't stop being idiots and hurting themselves just because it's a weekend, so our schedules don't line up with normal workweeks. I have Saturdays and Wednesdays off."

Jim looked mildly impressed, a small smile playing at his lips. Leonard couldn't help feeling pride. His pride was short lived as Jim's face became scrutinizing again and asked, "Why is a doctor living in the crappiest neighborhood in all of Riverside?"

"None of your god-damn business, that's why! If you don't get the hell out of my apartment, I'm going to call the police!"

"No you won't, 'Mr. Karl Urban'" Jim called his bluff and continued walking around the apartment, eventually opening the bathroom door and taking a look inside. "So tell me," Jim said after quickly closing the door again, "how long have you been living here?"

"None of your god-damn busi—"

"A year?"

"Eight months!"

Jim hummed in approval and McCoy mentally berated himself for answering that. "And how long have you been drinking?" Jim asked; Leonard didn't like the implications.

"I ain't an alcoholic if that's what you're asking." He growled.

Jim raised his eyebrows in obvious disbelief, vaguely motioning to the accumulated empty bottles around the room.

"I ain't!" McCoy protested. He didn't really know why Jim opinion was so important to him. Maybe it wasn't, maybe he was only trying to assure himself. "I don't drink if I have work the same day, and I never go into work drunk!" Common sense and med school had taught him that, at least. Never drink and diagnose. Not only was being drunk at work highly illegal, but people's lives were at stake, a doctor could easily mess up the slightest bit and kill his patient. He would admit (to himself, not to Jim) that he sometimes came into work with a hangover on Thursdays or Sundays, but he was never ever drunk at work. That's five days out of seven that he wasn't drunk. That counted as not an alcoholic, right?

Jim's blue eyes seemed to bore into him, scrutinizing judging, and Leonard met his gaze with a glare. Finally, Jim nodded, pleased with what he had seen, and asked, "And how long have you been without a master? Also eight months?"

Leonard nearly choked on air. This Jim guy hadn't wanted an old dog! It _was_ some weird fetish thing! "Master?" he half shouted, "I've never had a god-damn master because I'm not a goddamn dog! Leave me out of you creepy fantasies!"

Jim's eyebrows were raised in surprise, "You're a stray?"

"Not a stray because I'm not a fu-"

"Hmm… that would explain why you're so aggressive, always baring your teeth," Jim took steps toward Leonard. McCoy could feel himself taking a small step back.

The blond man stopped in front of him and before Leonard could react, Jim's hand came out and gripped McCoy's jaw tightly. The doctor stood wide-eyed in shock. "You're completely untrained," Jim's soft voice whispered, one of his fingers stroking McCoy's check, "and so very frightened." Leonard realized he was shaking, his breath uneven.

Jim released his jaw. Fingers moved up to stroke some hair away from his face. Leonard stared at him silently; he had no idea what he was supposed to do. Shock and fear froze him in place, but there was a warmth within him too. It had been months since anyone had touched him so delicately, so gently. It confused him.

"I will accept you as my pet," Jim declared, "and I shall call you Bones. A fitting name for a dog, don't you think?"

That seemed to snap Leonard out of his trance. "I'm not a dog," he growled, "I'm a human being. It was just a stupid drunken phone call."

"You gave me your address."

"I was drunk."

"Then afterward I told you what a good job you'd done," McCoy remembered that, what did that have anything to do wi- "You moaned so beautifully, Bones."

McCoy froze. Moaned? He'd_ moaned?_ He hadn't, had he? Leonard opened and closed his mouth a couple times before his mind finally formed words, "Get out."

Jim gave him a little smile. "Get out!" McCoy repeated, louder this time. "Get out of my damn apartment!"

The blond man walked past him without protest, but paused in the doorway, "You know my number," Jim said, "call me when you're ready." Leonard fingernails dug into the wooden doorframe.

Jim took another step and turned around, "Oh, and Bones? Call me Master."

McCoy slammed the door in his face as quickly as he could, locking the door behind him.

X

Author's Note: I'm not sure how frequently this will be updated, but please do let me know what you thought of it.


	2. A Bar

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter 2: A Bar

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any of its characters.

X

McCoy hesitated on the last digit. A part of him thought this was ridiculous, but a stronger part said it was the lesser of two hells.

It had been one week. Today was Wednesday again. Wednesday afternoon and McCoy had only just recovered from a hangover. He could already feel the alcohol call to him. In his right hand there was a phone, and in his left, a bottle of bourbon.

For the last hour Leonard had been staring at the bottle, still open from last night, telling himself to put it down. It had yet to leave his hand.

Jim would be a distraction. Something to occupy his mind, something to get him out of the apartment for a few hours. He would tell Jim firmly and conclusively that he was definitely NOT interested in being his boyfriend, or fetish-dog-buddy, or whatever the hell it was Jim wanted him to be.

His finger hovered above the final digit. Or he could just stay home; it would be so much easier not to do anything. If he just promised himself he wouldn't drink, he should be able to… The taste of alcohol, bitter and familiar, snapped McCoy out of his thoughts. He realized that he had brought the bottle to his lips.

Pressing the final digit, McCoy brought the phone to his ear and put the bottle down firmly.

_Ring… Ring… Ring…_

"Hello Bones." Leonard almost hung up.

Taking a deep breath, he forced the words out of his mouth, "Look, just meet me at the pub in an hour ok?" then hung up.

He decided on the pub because he didn't want Jim in his house, it was too… invasive. He also did not want to go to Jim's house, it was probably made of whips and handcuffs and other weird creepy stuff. A pub was a safe, public location, and would probably be empty on a Wednesday afternoon. Besides, that way he could order a beer or two.

X

Leonard arrived at the bar a half hour early, he'd left right after he hung up because there really was nothing else to do in his apartment. Riverside only had one bar, it was a small town after all, and it was called the Engine Room. Leonard didn't really like the name, but the beer was good and the Scotsman who ran the place wasn't stingy with the alcohol. Finding a quiet corner, Leonard took a seat and waited. When the bartender came by to ask what he wanted, he ordered a beer.

He looked around the quiet room; other than him and the bartender, there were only two other guests, both looked to be about sixty. One was dozing slightly, holding a half finished beer with a lazy smile on his face, the other had crammed himself into a dark corner and was staring into his empty glass angrily, by the look of the empty glasses around him, it was at least his fifth beer. Leonard wondered if he would end up like one of those two. If he would, he hoped he'd be the former, but rationally he knew he'd probably be more like the later.

The bartender, Scotty, brought McCoy his beer, it was a nice dark color and it looked delicious. He was about to thank the man when a voice spoke up from beside McCoy, "You ordered me a beer. How considerate." Leonard almost jumped, and looked up to see Jim. The man was casually dressed, apart from his leather jacket, and he smiled at Leonard in a not-entirely-nice way.

Leonard was about to object that it was _his_ beer and that Jim would get his own when Jim spoke again, this time to the bartender, "My friend has work tomorrow, so he won't be drinking. He's a doctor, you understand, right Scotty?"

"A docte' you say?" Scotty asked looking upon McCoy with a surprised smile, "Heard there was a new doc in town. You must be the chap who's working at the clinic with M'Begda?" McCoy inwardly cursed small towns and their damn unwanted ability to spread rumors and know everyone. He couldn't exactly order a beer now, could he? When the bartender knew who he was and when he worked?

Leonard tried to put on a smile, "Yeah, that's me. Dr. Leonard McCoy."

"Well I'll just get cha some soft drink then, eh?" Scotty said as he walked off.

"Leonard McCoy," Jim rolled the name over his tongue, trying it our or committing it to memory or something. Damn. Leonard had forgotten that he'd given Jim a false name. He didn't feel entirely comfortable with Jim knowing his real one. But then again, in this small town, it was only a matter of time until Jim would have found out anyway.

"Look," Leonard growled as the other man sat down, "Jim," Jim's eyes narrowed, but Leonard was not going to call him 'master', that would be freaking' ridiculous, "I just called you out here cause I wanted to tell you directly that I'm not goin' to be your dog, or boyfriend, or anything. The phone call was regrettable, but I was drunk, and I never said anything about agreeing to be your… pet."

Jim looked him over casually, "and why couldn't you have just said this over the phone Bones?" Leonard did not like that name.

"I just wanted to make it perfectly clear…"

"No." Jim's eyes were hard now, "you wanted any distraction from alcohol," he indicated to the beer, "you were desperate for anything to take you away from temptation, and you used me because you find me… distracting." Leonard suppressed a shiver when Jim growled that last word. "But don't worry," Jim continued on casually, "I don't mind if you use me, and I'll make sure to keep you away from temptation tonight."

His tone was casual but his words were unnerving. "I'm gonna go," McCoy muttered, standing up.

"Stay," Jim growled, McCoy froze for a second, then turned to Jim, intent to tell him off for ordering McCoy around when Jim continued, "Scotty is getting you a drink. At least wait until he comes back."

Leonard sat back down slowly. Jim was weird and unnerving, but Scotty seemed like a nice enough person, there was no reason to be rude. Leonard crossed his arms. As soon as he finished whatever drink Scotty brought him, he was leaving, and going back to his apartment.

There was a silence for several minutes. Leonard glaring across the table with his arms crossed while Jim sat back easily, drinking his beer and observing the doctor with his piercing blue eyes. As the seconds ticked on, Leonard felt more and more uncomfortable, but there was no way he was letting Jim know that.

After a minute or two Scotty came back with some kind of fizzy fruity drink that was, by the taste of it, alcohol free. Thanking him, Leonard took a gulp of it. He finished the drink within a few minutes. Jim was strangely quiet throughout the whole thing, smiling mildly at him, and Leonard couldn't help but feel he had a plan. Whatever, Leonard thought while putting the empty glass down, he was going home now so it was too late for Jim to do anything.

As soon as he called Scotty over for the bill, McCoy was proven wrong. A bare foot pressed itself firmly between Leonard's legs. Leonard jumped at the feeling, then automatically tried to shut his legs. It didn't really help because Jim's foot was already firmly in place.

"Stop it!" McCoy hissed, using both his hands to try to pull the foot away from his groin. He didn't want anyone else to see what Jim was doing.

Scotty came over, and Leonard quickly pulled both his hands above the table, trying to draw as little attention to the foot as possible. Jim seemed to take that as permission to start moving, grinding his foot against McCoy's dick and balls. Fuck. Leonard's breath hitched as he felt his body respond. That particular part of his anatomy hadn't been given attention for quite some time, and it seemed eager to make up for lost time regardless of what Leonard's brain thought.

Leonard tried to keep a straight face, and not squirm in his seat, as the bartender started talking. He asked Leonard if they would be paying separately or together. Oh god, he had to talk.

"We'll be paying ah-" Leonard tried to pretend he'd hesitated, and not let out the beginning of a moan, "separately." He smiled at Scotty, who nodded back. At least there was no way for Scotty, who was standing right next to the table, to be able to see the foot attached to his dick.

Toes groped his balls through the cloth of Leonard's pants as Scotty listed the prices. McCoy's cock was hard and dripping by the time Leonard pulled out his wallet and handed Scotty the money. Jim's toes- god they were way to fucking talented!- stroked up and down McCoy's length as Scotty counted out the change. McCoy's legs were shaking, his pants were way, way to tight, and a wet patch was growing between his legs as Jim continued his ministrations.

After what seemed like forever, Scotty gave Leonard back his change. This meant that Leonard had to put his wallet back into his pants pocket. Swallowing, Leonard did so, in the process, he had to straighten his hips enough for the wallet to go into the pocket. This hip movement did not go unnoticed by the blue-eyed man. As Leonard bucked his hips forward, Jim ground the length of his foot against Leonard's groin. Hard. Leonard had to bite back a moan.

The ministrations continued as Jim also paid for his drink. McCoy was absolutely certain that Jim took an unnecessarily long time finding his money, and then took forever to give Scotty an exact change, counting his pennies very carefully as his toes rubbed aggressively up and down Leonard's length. Leonard was using all his control to not show any outward signs of being jacked off. He couldn't suppress, however, the occasional hitch in breathing. Luckily Scotty didn't seem to notice.

When Jim was done paying, Scotty left and Jim removed his foot. Leonard looked up sharply. If he tried to get up now, everyone would see his arousal. A coy smirk played along Jim's lips. "Do you want me to continue?" He asked lightly.

McCoy hated him.

"You don't have to respond verbally," Jim continued. His tone sounded like he was talking about the weather or something even more mundane, "Just nod or shake."

Leonard didn't move for several seconds, but then pain started accumulating between his legs. The pain of having blue balls eventually forced his head up and down. Quickly; once.

The foot returned to between Leonard's shaking thighs and got to work. Within a couple seconds Leonard was panting softly, his hands gripping the tabletop tightly. Within a minute Leonard was gulping back moans, and casting quick looks around the bar. No one was looking in their direction. Thank god.

"Bones," Jim purred quietly, and if Jim expected McCoy to come up with any kind of verbal response _now_, he had another thing coming, "cum." The order was accompanied with a particularly hard grind against Leonard's cock, leaving him no choice but to obey.

White flashed over his vision as he came hard. He managed to suppress all sound except for a very quiet whimper. It took him a minute, during which he tried his best not to pant, to recover enough self-control to look up at Jim. The man was looking at Leonard with a contented, superior smile on his face. If McCoy's body wasn't flooded with happy, post-coital hormones, he would probably hate Jim even more right now.

The blond man stood up casually, and as he walked past McCoy on the way to the door, he leaned down and whispered, "good boy, Bones," in Leonard's ear.

Leonard was left alone in the bar, confused and panting, with pants that were quickly becoming cold and sticky.

X

Getting up for work Thursday morning was a lot easier without a hangover. Leonard arrived at work an hour early and started doing the paperwork that always came with medical jobs. Insurance sheets, patient histories, confirmations, signatures, etc. By the time his first patient arrived, Leonard was more than ready. The clinic in which he worked was small, and it didn't have the equipment an actual hospital had. He was trained as a surgeon; he used to work in an ER of a large city. In comparison, this backwater clinic was practically a shack.

Most of the time patients came in with the flu, or a cut. If it were anything more serious McCoy would have to redirect them to the hospital an hour away. This job was beneath him, really, but it was a job so he shouldn't complain.

M'Begda, the other doctor working at the clinic, didn't like him very much, so the two doctors tried to avoid each other as much as possible.

After taking care of several patients, Leonard sat down to do paperwork. Most days, he would fall into a temporary depression around one o'clock. His body's sleep cycle would reach a natural dip around then, his blood sugar would be low because he didn't have time for lunch, and the shame and depression that is always clawing at his stomach would become stronger for a few hours.

Some days it would be manageable, if he stayed active on his feet or talked to patients he could pretend nothing was wrong, but often it would bring him to his knees. He would sit on his desk and stare at a page, or just collapse in a pile on the floor, using all his energy to force himself to breath.

Today Leonard was filling out patient reports and waiting. The depression would come, he knew, any second it would attack. The day went on, and while the self-disgust never went away fully, it was never overwhelming. When McCoy arrived home he allowed himself to wonder why.

Grudgingly, he had to admit that it was probably because of Jim. Orgasms flooded the body with hormones, pleasurable ones, which often helped flush the body's systems. It cleared away many of the darker hormones, which was probably why they hadn't overwhelmed him during the day.

This realization did not help his growing confusion.

X

His depression must have been trying to punish him for skipping a day on Thursday, because Friday was especially crippling. He could only just usher his patient out the door- yes, it really is just a cold, sleep and drink lots of liquids- before collapsing next to his desk.

Breathing was difficult. His mind knew his blood sugar was low and he should eat something, it knew that this was caused by stress and emotional unbalance, and that it would be over within an hour or two. His mind knew, but Leonard couldn't pay attention to his mind. The sheer gut feeling that this dread would never end, that the shame and pain would continue forever made every breath a burden. The worst moments of his life were stuck in the front of his mind, reminding him again and again why he was a failure.

When the depression ebbed away an hour later, Leonard forced himself not to think and just to breath until he could stand. He righted himself, straightened his clothes, forced down the ever-present pain, and called in his next patient, a woman who had been waiting for over an hour for her appointment.

X

Leonard had been confused before, but it had always been a confusion of the mind, where one side of his mind thought one thing, while the other side thought something else. The confusion he felt now was more all encompassing. His mind, his body, his pride and his heart all had warring sides. His body loved the attention, his pride hated the demeaning way Jim treated him, his heart didn't want a new relationship but loved the breaks from depression that Jim brought him, and his mind was in shambles. He hated Jim, enjoyed the distraction, despised how Jim judged him, and was desperate for Jim's approval.

McCoy had no idea what he was going to do. He didn't want to seek Jim out, what remained of his pride would never let him, but he also didn't have the heart nor will needed to deny those demanding blue eyes.

X

That night, as soon as Leonard got home from work, he grabbed a half empty bottle of wine. He'd finished it, and was a quarter of the way through a second bottle when a knock came on the door.

It was Jim. His eyes automatically spotted the bottle in Leonard's hand. "Can I come in?" Jim asked in a tone that indicated that he already knew the answer.

Leonard stepped out of the way silently, and Jim entered.

X

Author's Note: Please remember to leave a review! Also, if anyone can write a better summary than the one I have now, I would love to update it.


	3. Rules and Regulations

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter 3: Rules and Restraints

Disclaimer: I do not own Star Trek or any f it's characters.

X

Jim didn't need an invitation to make himself comfortable; he walked into the apartment like he owned it, and casually leaned against McCoy's tiny wooden table. Leonard wasn't really sure what he was supposed to do. Jim was in his house now, did that mean he'd agreed to be Jim's… pet? Boyfriend?

Leonard closed the door slowly, turned around and just kind of… waited. He hoped Jim would make the first move. Leonard didn't have to wait long.

"Bones," Jim started, his voice was so nice, "Come over here."

Leonard blinked. Was he actually supposed to listen to that? He stared at Jim for a while. The blond man waited patiently, his blue eyes never leaving Leonard's brown ones. Leonard moved forward, as if he were being pulled by invisible rope.

Invisible rope that, apparently, didn't take obstacles into consideration. Leonard tripped over an empty bottle and tumbled to the floor. As he fell he automatically dropped the wine bottle in his hand, it clanked into the carpet, and started spilling red wine all over the place. Good thing the carpet was an ugly grey. "Shit," Leonard muttered from the ground, sitting up and starting to grope for the bottle. His hand-eye coordination wasn't very good in his drunken state.

Jim's hand swooped down and easily picked up the bottle, righting it before all of it could spill. Fuck, if that wasn't humiliating. Bones looked away, his cheeks red from embarrassment. He should just add this to the list of things he screwed up. Can't even walk across a freaking room.

Jim turned and walked to the sink in the kitchen-area of the room. He poured the rest of the wine down the drain. "Hey!" Leonard protested; he'd been drinking that!

Jim looked back at Leonard, who must look fucking pathetic kneeling on the ground, drunk, on a wine soaked carpet. "You've had enough Bones," Jim's calm voice chided. Leonard's cheeks burned.

After pouring out the bottle, Jim walked back over to Leonard and pulled him up by his elbow. Leonard stumbled, and ended up leaning on Jim quite heavily. Jim was warm.

Jim walked him over to his couch-bed and sat Leonard down. Fear tore at Leonard's gut. Oh god, Jim was going to do something now. Did letting Jim in count as agreeing to this? Was it going to hurt? Leonard shut his eyes tight, his body tensed, waiting.

"Where do you keep your bandages?" Jim asked. McCoy looked up, surprised. "You hurt your hands," Jim clarified, nodding at Leonard's hands. McCoy looked down at them. One of them was indeed cut, he realized, not deeply but still bleeding quite a bit right below the thumb.

"In the top drawer next to the sink," Leonard replied without really thinking.

Jim hummed as he went back to the kitchen to get them. "What do you have on your floor that's sharp enough to cut you?" The blond asked.

Leonard had to think about that, he didn't really know, "Bottle caps maybe, or maybe it was a splinter from the ceiling, this place is kind of falling apart." Jim hummed his understanding.

He came back and opened a bottle of disinfectant, pouring some on a paper towel. "That's hardly necessary," Leonard scoffed, pulling his hand away.

Jim's hands were firm as he wrapped his fingers around Leonard's wrist and pulled his hand back. "I'll decide if it's necessary or not, just hold still."

Leonard grumbled, but didn't pull his hand away again, "I'm the doctor, you know," He muttered.

"And doctors make horrible patients, so hold still," Jim responded without missing a beat. Jim kneeled in front of Leonard, holding onto his wrist firmly. He then began cleaning the wound. He strokes were steady and gentle; Leonard couldn't help but focus all his attention on his hand. Every touch and movement tingled throughout his body.

Jim disinfected the wound then spread a bandage over it. It surprised McCoy how gentle the other man was. Jim and gentle didn't really compute. When finished, Jim stood up.

"I was planning on making some rules for our relationship, but we can't exactly do that when you're drunk, now can we?" Jim asked.

"I'm not drunk!" Leonard automatically protested.

"You couldn't walk across your own room without tripping and hurting yourself." Jim replied in a "this is really obvious" voice as he walked back to the kitchen to put the bandaged back.

Leonard wanted to make a snappy reply, but that was hard to argue. Besides the alcohol was slowing down his brain functions somewhat. So instead he asked about the rules Jim mentioned.

Jim raised an eyebrow, walked back to the pull-out-couch, and sat down next to McCoy. A bit too close.

"I keep forgetting you're a stray, Bones. Everything must be so new to you." Jim's hand reached forward and stroked Leonard's cheekbones. McCoy should really pull away, but the hand was so soft and Leonard was so touch-deprived. He leaned into the touch.

"You really enjoy being caressed, don't you Bones?" Jim purred, running his fingers through Leonard's hair.

"No," Leonard said firmly. He should really pull away from Jim to prove his point, but a second hand had jointed the first and was brushing lightly along his jaw. It felt amazing, and Leonard didn't want it to end. His eyes had closed at some point.

There was a light pull on Leonard's shoulder, but the hand went back to massaging his scalp when Leonard moved a bit. There was a light tug here, a small movement there, but every time Leonard would just shift a little and then the hands would be back. They would massage his scalp, play with his hair, and run a light finger along is ear; Leonard reveled in their pleasurable attention. Jim was so warm, especially against his chest. Wait… chest?

Leonard realized belatedly that he was straddling Jim's lap. One of Jim's hands was resting on Leonard's back, the other was still running through his hair. Leonard snapped out of his semi-relaxed, semi-drunken haze with a jolt. Pulling back from the blond man, McCoy began to struggle, "let me go," he growled.

"Relax bones," Jim replied casually, but his hold on Leonard's back didn't lighten a bit.

"No," Leonard growled as he pulled his head back and away from where Jim reached out him, "I'm not rea- I don't want- let me go!" Not his most elegant speech ever, but panic was starting to eat at Leonard's mind. His breath was becoming shorter as adrenaline flooded into his blood. Shit shit shit, how had he been maneuvered onto Jim's lap without noticing? What was Jim going to do now? He was not ready for anal sex!

"Hushhh, Bones. I'm not going to go any further than this. Just relax, take a deep breath," Jim whispered.

In spite of himself, Leonard took a gulp of air, "I don't – I don't want-"

"I know, pet," Jim replied as his hand snaked around Leonard's head and started massaging his scalp. "Sshhh… I won't hurt you." Leonard continued to take big gulps of air, trying to reduce his panic. "Long, deep breaths," Jim instructed, while pulling Leonard closer and maneuvering Leonard's head back into the crook of Jim's neck. Jim took deep breaths as well. Leonard's own breathing quickly copied Jim's, until he too was breathing deeply and the panic ebbed.

Once most of the adrenaline left his system, he was left in an awkward position, head buried in Jim's neck, fists clutching the man's shirt, legs straddling Jim's waist, crotch no more than a couple inches away from Jim's.

What the hell was one supposed to do in such a situation? He needed a goddamn drink.

After a couple minutes of waiting and hoping Jim would take the lead in this, or get tired and kick him off, Leonard got fed up with strokes and pets and the whispers of "relax Bones." Also, his legs were beginning to ach from the way they were spread and folded up around Jim's thighs.

Leonard pulled back as far as he could, "Can't you just let me go?" he growled.

Jim raised his eyebrows, "So soon? Aren't you enjoying yourself Bones?"

Yes, "No," Leonard snapped back quickly. Jim hummed in the way that Leonard was beginning to recognize as Jim's 'I don't believe you' hum. Regardless, his grip loosened, and Leonard pulled himself off of Jim's lap. Once he was off, he felt even more ridiculous, how could he have let himself to maneuver onto a fully-grown man's lap? F*ck, he was a fully-grown man himself! Not a freakin' 3 year old! Not to mention that he'd been _straddling_ Jim's lap like a cheap stripper giving a lap dance.

A chuckle brought Leonard back to the present. "You're so adorable when you're blushing, Bones," Jim purred, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Leonard took an instinctive step back, was he blushing? Shit. Must be a combination of the alcohol and the humiliation. Jim would probably interpret it as the dog equivalent of sexy shyness.

"I need a drink," Leonard grumbled, turning to try to go find something. He was sure there was a bottle of scotch around here somewh-

Leonard wasn't expecting the foot that came out and tripped him, or the arm that pulled the off-balance doctor toward Jim, and then pushed him face-up onto his couch. He blinked up in surprise at Jim, who was now standing over Leonard. His blue eyes were hard and serious.

"What the hell-" Leonard began pushing himself up from the couch. He stopped mid-sentence when Jim's hand landed on the center of his chest and pushed him down, firmly, onto the mattress. Something about the gesture and the hard eyes just made Leonard freeze.

"Now I'm going to be very clear about this," Jim's voice was low and cold, "you are never to drink alcohol when you're with me, is that understood?"

Leonard nodded, eyes wide and barely breathing. "Good." Jim growled. He then proceeded to turn around and sit back down on the couch. Once his eyes directed away from Leonard, the doctor's breath returned to him. He lay there, wondering what he'd just agreed to, and having no idea what exactly would happen if he broke the rule. He swallowed a lump in his throat. He didn't want to find out.

Leonard lay where he was for a while. He wasn't sure how long. The doctor didn't really feel like moving, what with Jim sitting right next to his calves and all. He'd never really seen Jim upset before, it was unnerving to say the least.

After a while, Leonard sat up slowly. Why was Jim still here? If he couldn't do what he'd planned on doing with the rules, what was the point of staying?

Jim looked over when he heard Leonard move. Their eyes met for a second, and Leonard was relieved to see that the anger had seeped out of Jim's eyes. "Come here pet," Jim patted his lap. Leonard froze. "Come now Bones, it wasn't that bad was it? It's just sitting."

Just sitting, Leonard told himself as he crawled toward Jim's lap, just sitting just sitting justsitting_justsitting_. It didn't _feel_ like just sitting once he was straddling Jim's lap. It felt like so much more.

"Good boy," Jim whispered in his ear, as one of his hands started softly petting his hair again and the other hand held him firmly on the back. "You're such a good boy, Bones," Jim purred again. Leonard had no idea how he was supposed to respond to that, so he didn't. He also suppressed the sense of accomplishment that Jim's words brought.

Leonard would later blame his actions on his inebriation and Jim's amazing massaging skills.

X

It was the fourth time that Leonard crawled onto Jim's lap. True to his word, Jim hadn't gone any further than having Leonard sit on his lap. His hands never strayed below McCoy's back or under his shirt, and he never tried dry-humping Leonard or anything. All he would do was pull Leonard onto his lap, massage and pet Leonard's scalp, blow into his ears, pull him in close and whisper praises to the doctor.

Leonard was a bit torn about the praises. A part of him loved them, and needed to hear them. That part of him would sometimes let out small moans when Jim called him beautiful. The other part of him hated the way the complements were all things one would say to a dog. "Good boy." "You're doing so well, Bones." His pride would probably have won this internal debate easily had this been an issue before his father's death, but since then his pride had been dwindling and he frequently saw himself as something far worse than just a dog.

Leonard settled himself on Jim's lap, his thighs spread so that his knees were on either side of Jim's hips, McCoy lowered his head into the crook of Jim's shoulder and let his body relax as one of Jim's hands began sifting though his hair again. Jim's other hand, the one on his back, pushed Leonard just a bit closer, so that they were chest to chest. "Good boy," came the purr, "such a good boy you are Bones." Jim blew a soft cold breath into Leonard's ear, making him shiver, "You're so beautiful, aren't you? Yes you are."

Jim would keep Leonard straddling his hips for several minutes. So long that Leonard's legs would start to fall asleep due to the way they were folded. He'd then pull Leonard up onto his knees with light tugs on McCoy's hair (pushing himself up onto his knees from his sitting position was harder than it seemed because his legs were asleep), and maneuver him onto the couch. Leonard would lie there, suppressing shivers due to the lack of body heat, and working blood back into his sore limbs.

Jim was almost constantly murmuring praises into Leonard's ears when the Doctor was straddling Jim's lap, but then he always went quiet when Leonard was recovering. Leonard wasn't sure if he was grateful or unnerved by the silence.

McCoy never said a word, not while recovering nor while sitting, because he had no idea what he was supposed to say and Jim didn't seem to want a response to his whispered compliments.

It's awkward and strange and unnerving, but his body loves the touches and a part of him loves the praises, even if they are degrading. Leonard blames the alcohol. He'd never agree to this if he were sober. Probably.

A soft moan escapes his lips again when Jim blows on his ear. "You have such a beautiful voice, pet," Jim whispers. If Jim thinks that Leonard is going to start moaning like a cheap whore just because he enjoys the sound, he's got another thing coming.

Jim tugs at his hair, and Leonard lifts himself up and off of Jim's lap, going to lie back down on the pull-out couch. While lying down, Leonard has to convince himself that he doesn't miss Jim's warmth or words. A shiver runs down his back, he misses Jim's body warmth.

After a couple minutes of getting blood flow back into his legs, Leonard is once again moved to straddle Jim's hips. Jim pulls him in nice and close, so that their bodies are flush, and begins playing with McCoy's hair. "Your fur is so soft, pet," Jim purrs. It's hair, not fur, Leonard wants to growl, but then decides not to. He closes his eyes.

Jim blows a puff of warm air into his ear and Leonard moans, louder this time. Jim hums his approval, "Good boy, Bones. Such a beautiful voice."

X

Leonard doesn't really know why he starts to nod off, but after several more rounds of sitting, he feels himself getting really tired. Who'd have thought that sitting and lying down were so exhausting? Maybe it was the stress; being stressed was always exhausting.

Whatever the reason, Leonard almost nodded off on Jims lap. A few minutes later, when he was lying down, he decided that he would just close his eyes for a second. Just a second…

Leonard awoke the next day with a small jolt. He blinked once, and then quickly closed his eyes again. His head was pounding and light was not helping. After a couple seconds Leonard opened his eyes very carefully, Jim was nowhere to be seen. McCoy let out a relieved little sigh, then closed his eyes again and snuggling into his blankets, wondering vaguely how they got there, because he had fallen asleep while his blankets had been crumpled somewhere on the floor.

Leonard is awoken a while later (he must have fallen asleep again) by a knock on his door. Grumbling, he stumbled out of bed. His headache had gone down a bit, but he would probably have to drink some water if he wanted it to disappear completely.

Opening the door, Leonard was unsurprised to see Jim. He stepped back as Jim brushed past him. "It's good to see you without some kind of alcohol in your hands for once," Jim noted conversationally. Leonard grunted. "You're not drunk, are you?" He asked.

"I just got up," Leonard grumbled. Jim raised an eyebrow. "No, I ain't drunk," Leonard growled.

"Good," Jim hummed, "then we'll establish some rules." Jim had mentioned rules yesterday too.

"What kind of rules?"

"The kind of rules that will determine what we will and will not do." That was about as helpful as a pickled slug. Regardless, within a couple minutes Jim and McCoy were sitting at Leonard's kitchen table, Leonard with a glass of water and Jim had pulled out his phone. He began typing out the rules as he spoke.

"My first rule you already know," Jim began, "you are not to drink alcohol when we are together. Ever."

Leonard blinked, "couldn't you just ban me from drinking alcohol all the time?"

"I'm not stupid enough to think you would stop drinking just because I said so, and I have no desire to punish you every time we meet. I have no intention of being a cruel master, Dr. McCoy."

Leonard stared at Jim for a minute. That was the first time Jim had ever used his actual name, instead of calling him "Bones". Also, the "punishment" thing Jim talked about was unnerving, should he ask about that? He should definitely ask about that. "You called me, 'McCoy'" Leonard's traitorous mouth said instead.

Jim raised an inquisitive eyebrow, as if he was wondering why this wasn't oh-so-obvious, "that's because right now I'm talking to Dr. McCoy, not to my pet, Bones."

That made no sense, or maybe it did in a strange twisted, kind of way. Leonard wasn't sure. "I still don't know your name."

"James Tiberious Kirk, but you will call me Jim or master" Jim replied. Leonard frowned, hadn't he heard that name somewhere? Kirk… it rung a bell. Jim continued before Leonard could put his finger on it, "Do you have any rules you want to discuss? If not, I still have a few."

"I, uh-" Leonard's mind raced to come up with some kind of rule, what was something he needed from this—relationship? Agreement? "I want to make sure that this isn't going to become- uh- romantic," Leonard stuttered out.

This was something that he'd been hesitant about, he needed this –thing- he had with Jim, but he did not want to fall in love. He did not want romance, or kissing, or love. He'd tried that and it had ripped him up and spat him out.

"This, this _Thing_ we have going on, it's not romantic, it's not love, and it's never going to be," Leonard continued.

Jim nodded, "of course." The matter-of-fact way Jim agreed to this was relieving, yet a small part of Leonard (very, very, very small part, mind you!) was a little disappointed. The less pathetic part of Leonard's mind told that part of his mind to piss off.

"My turn," Jim continued lightly, "I'm establishing some safe words. 'Yellow alert' means slow down, and 'red alert' means stop. Is that clear?"

Leonard was trying not to panic, "I-uh- I think so." He should be relieved for the safe words, but they scared him. They meant that he was going to be put into situations where he might need to use them. This was undeniable confirmation that he was entering into a taboo, power play, sex based relationship with a man he barely knew. Good lord what was he thinking?!

Jim must not have believed him, because he kept talking, "the safe words are for your benefit. You are always, _always,_ allowed to use them, regardless of any of the other rules. I am planning on training you slowly so most likely you will never have to use them, but you should still always know them. If you say 'yellow alert' I'll pause what I'm doing, and we can discuss what's wrong. Should you say 'red alert', I will stop what I'm doing immediately, without question or delay. Is that clear, Dr. McCoy?"

Leonard swallowed, "yes."

"Good," there was a short silence as Leonard processed what he'd just learned. Jocelyn and him had never done anything that might require a safe word; this was unknown territory. Leonard did not like unknown territory. "Is there anything else you might want to add?" Jim voice cut through his thoughts.

Leonard thought about it. What did he absolutely not want Jim to do? "Do not come to my work and act all "master-Jim"-ish. When I'm at work, I'm Dr. McCoy, ok?"

Jim nodded, "ok. Anything else?"

"Yes, I want you to be tested. For STDs. I'm not doing anything sexual till I know you're clean."

A smile played along Jim's lips, "Always so cautious. But I suppose that's better than the opposite. Of course I'll be tested. In exchange, you will too."

"I'm clean," Leonard automatically protested.

"As am I, but if we're going to build trust, we'll start with an even playing field," Jim responded. Fair enough, Leonard figured. Although the "Playing field" was hardly even.

"Is that everything?" Jim asked. Leonard thought for a minute, and then nodded. He couldn't think of anything else he wanted. "Good." Jim closed his phone, and stood up, walking toward the door. Pausing with one hand on the door handle, Jim turned, " Doctor, I have some advice. It's not a rule, really, but I suggest you follow it." Leonard blinked. "When we're together, don't think so much," Jim's eyes connected with Leonard's, "thinking makes things harder. Just let yourself submit, let yourself feel without mentally berating yourself for everything you do." Leonard looked away. It was probably good advice. Maybe. But he was not ready to follow it. He wasn't ready to loose that kind of control. His mind was everything he had left; surrendering it was not an option.

Leonard heard the door open and shut, but didn't look up. He needed a fucking drink.


	4. A Bone Studded Collar

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter 4: A Bone Studded Collar

Disclaimer: I do not own Star trek or any of it's characters.

X

M'Benga tried not to let his annoyance show. It would do no good to get angry or cause any workforce strife, but god lord the new doctor could get on his nerve! The man came in hung over half the time, not getting to work until after an hour of rubbing his head and groaning about the light. He would also take a one hour lunch breaks every day! Even if he had patients schedules at the time. Dr. McCoy would just make his patients wait for him to finish his lunch!

At least, M'Begda assumed he was eating lunch. If that man were drinking on the job, M'Benga would not only fire him, but sue him for medical malpractice. McCoy had already been accused of malpractice once before, who knows if he would do it again?

M'Benga had learned not to schedule McCoy any patients between 12 and one pm. Which was ridiculous, because the clinic was so busy most days that taking an hour break was not acceptable.

Also, the man's I'm-so-much-better-than-this attitude really rubbed M'Benga the wrong way. If he didn't want to work in the clinic, he shouldn't have applied! The guy trained to be a surgeon in the I'm-so-much-better-than-you university, and he knew it. A mere small-town clinic isn't prestigious enough for Dr. Surgeon!

M'Benga took a breath. He shouldn't be criticizing. Dr. McCoy was a very good, experienced doctor (when he wasn't hung over or slacking off) and the only one willing to work in Riverside at all. Besides, M'Benga needed the extra help. The clinic was too much work for one person. Up until eight months ago, Brook M'Benga's father, Thomas M'Benga, also worked at the clinic. M'Benga's father hired Dr. McCoy, and then promptly retired leaving M'Benga in charge. Saying things about second chances and low periods in a man's life.

The stress of trying to run a clinic, with all its paperwork, taxes and planning probably wasn't making the situation any easier. But it was just so frustrating to see this doctor look down on everything he had been working for his entire life!

M'Benga took a deep breath and left the door to McCoy's office closed. Let him have his lunch, if M'Benga were to try to talk to him right now, it would just lead to a shouting match, and he had patients to see to.

Dr. M'Benga walked toward the waiting room, and called Jim Kirk into his office. Jim walked in like he owned the place, as usual, and sat down with a smile. "Hello again Kirk," M'Benga said pleasantly, "and how can I help you today?"

"Hey M'Benga, I want to get a full STD checkup, if you don't mind."

M'Benga tried not to frown. It was none of his business, but it had been months since Jim had asked for that. He thought Jim had finally gotten past the "sleep with everyone in sight" stage of his post-breakup reaction. Apparently not. Granted, that last breakup had left Jim pretty wrecked emotionally.

"Don't look at me like that doctor, I'm being all responsible. Haven't been sleeping around, I just want the proof."

M'Benga smiled, "What are you going to do with it? Hang it up on your wall as a trophy?"

Jim grinned back, "Something like that."

Brook shook his head, but went to go get the instruments he needed to draw blood. The blood samples would be sent to a specialized lab two hours away, and the results would be sent, anonymously, back to the clinic.

As Brook was drawing blood, Jim asked, "So what do you think of the new doctor?"

M'Benga tried not to show any kind of adverse reaction, this was hardly the first time he'd been asked that, "He's a very good doctor. Experienced, well trained, highly qualified. Smarter than me, I dare say."

"That's nice," Jim said in a tone that meant he didn't care, "What do you think of him personally?" Leave it to Jim Kirk to not leave well enough alone.

"I think he's a good doctor."

"So you two don't get along?" It was still amazing how well Jim Kirk could see right through people. Amazing, and annoying.

M'Benga hesitated, anything he'd say would undoubtedly spread throughout the town like wildfire, and he didn't want his clinic getting a bad reputation. "I think that he has some issues to work through, and I think he's not quiet used to working in a small town clinic. That's what I think." Finishing with the blood, M'Benga placed the needle away safely then turned back to Jim, "Now pants off, I need to check for genital warts."

That shut Kirk up pretty quickly; STD's can do that to a conversation.

X

"Hello Bones," Jim purred as he walked in. Leonard didn't resist when Jim pulled the bottle out of his hand, but did cringe internally when Jim poured it down the drain. "I see you're drunk again." Hardly, Leonard thought, he was barely more than buzzed. Probably.

"So what?"

"So that limits what we can do."

"Shouldn't it be the other way around? Me being drunk and all?"

Jim blue eyes rushed up to meet Leonard's. They stared at each other for a while; Leonard wasn't sure how long, but long enough for him to be uncomfortable. "No," Jim finally said, "you being drunk limits everything. I don't trust your judgment when you're drunk."

Jim's seriousness kept Leonard from asking what the hell he meant by that. He figured that if he was going to do this pet-play controlling sex thing, pissing off the person in charge was not a good idea. And Jim was definitely in charge.

"I got you something," Jim said, holding up a box. It was a relatively small, but elongated box. An automatic alarm bell went off in McCoy's mind. Presents?

"I thought we agreed this wouldn't be a romantic thing. What are you getting me presents for?"

Jim's grin was either cocky or feral; Leonard wasn't sure which, "Just open it."

Leonard walked forward across the room to take the box out of Jim's hand (without tripping once, by the way, that was a one time thing). Opening it, his stomach twisted with dread.

A collar.

A black leather collar with metal studs in the shape of little bones.

Oh fuck.

"It only just arrived in the mail. I ordered it an hour or so after I first named you. What do you think?" Jim made it sound like a new toy he should be excited about. But the only thing McCoy felt was dread.

This was it, wasn't it? Calling Jim, letting him in, making the rules… those were all leading up to this. This physical, and oh-so-cliché object that would represent Jim's… ownership (Leonard hated that word) over him.

Oh fuck. He'd known this was coming. He'd agreed to this. Panic rose within him anyway; Leonard could feel it start to choke him but couldn't stop it. Shit. Goddammit. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn't do this! What had he been thinking?

The box closed, and Jim pulled it out of Leonard's grip, placing it on the table. It was ridiculous how easily McCoy was manipulated onto Jim's lap. Hands clenched in Jim's shirt, forehead pressed against Jim's neck, holding on for dear life. It was also ridiculous how quickly he calmed down once Jim's hands were around him.

Once Leonard caught his breath, his mind started to register Jim's voice in his ear. "Hush pet, breath deeply now. That's right, that's a good boy. You don't need to wear the collar right now, ssshhhh…"

Panic was once again replaced by shame. What the hell was wrong with him? Why the hell was he reacting like this? Breathing deeply, Leonard let go of Jim's shirt.

"Feeling better pet?" Jim asked softly, stroking his hair. Leonard didn't respond, instead he opted for attempting to get off of Jim's lap. Jim pulled him back on with a sharp tug, "Now now Bones, don't shy away from your master." Leonard didn't like that word.

Preparing himself for another night of sitting on Jim's lap, Leonard was caught by surprise when Jim flipped them over, laying Leonard down on the bed and towering over him. Fear gripped McCoy almost immediately, and he blurted the first thing that came to mind, "Test results haven't come back yet!"

"I know pet, and we're not going to have sex. I told you we'd take it slow, didn't I? Your shirt, however, is going to have to go." Shirt. Shirt. Ok. Leonard could deal with that. He was a guy. He'd gone shirtless in public before. Granted that was when he was a teenager and only at public swimming pools, but they're essentially the same thing, right?

Turns out, being in swim trunks at a local swimming pool and having your shirt peeled off while lying vulnerable on a bed by a guy who oozes sex are not the same things at all. Who would have thought?

Jim didn't just take the shirt off; he peeled the shirt off, slowly. As if he were unveiling a delicate present. Or, by the way Jim's eyes traveled over Leonard's chest, a rare and delicious treat. Those piercing blue eyes took in every detail, every tiny movement, and every hitched breath. Why did Jim have to stare at him like that? It was unnerving, and uncomfortable. It wasn't like Leonard was anything to look at anyway. He was past his prime, he was old and fat and gross.

Jim raked his fingers over the exposed chest, making every hair in Leonard's body stand on edge. "Stop that," McCoy growled, squirming away and pulling Jim's hands off of his chest, "it's unnerving and weird."

Jim raised his eyebrows questioningly, twisted his hands out of Leonard's grip, and quickly grabbed Leonard's wrists instead. With a small smirk, Jim brought McCoy's hands up above his head, pinning them there with force and leverage. If Leonard hadn't felt exposed before, he did now. Leonard tugged at his hands for a seconds, then quickly gave up when he realized that there was no way he was stronger than the well built man above of him.

"Do you remember your safe words, Bones?"

"… Yes. I'm not going to have to use them, am I?"  
"Probably not," Jim purred, leaning in close and pressing his chest against McCoy's bare one to whisper into Leonard's ear, "now stop talking."

"You can't be serious?" Leonard asked incredulously. In response, Jim bit down on Leonard's neck. It wasn't painful, but it caused Leonard to let out a short cry of surprise.

"Very serious," came the belated, somewhat smug, reply, "no more words, but feel free to moan and whimper for me, I do so love your voice." Leonard decided that he wasn't going to make a sound. No way he was pandering to Jim's every wish.

Jim moved himself so that he was sitting on top of Leonard's hips, grinding down firmly before settling down. Which was a terrible thing to do because now Leonard was aroused, and having a warm, moving pressure on his groin was not helping.

Jim leaned forward, and shifted his hips as he did so, causing Leonard to have to swallow a moan. "By the way Leonard, I should tell you," came the smooth voice of the man above him, "I'm not going to allow you to come tonight."

What? What the hell did- Leonard had to force himself not to talk. He choked on himself for a second to prevent the angry retort. Jim licked the spot where he had bitten Leonard earlier. Was that a congratulations for not talking? An apology for the bite? Or did he just want to do that?

"I'm not going to reward you when you're drunk. But that doesn't mean I won't play with you for a while." That wasn't fair. That wasn't fair at all. Jim couldn't do that!

Jim shifted Leonard's wrists into one hand, and then brought the other one down. It traced paths over Leonard's chest, avoiding his nipples but otherwise exploring every inch of skin. He dipped into McCoy's bellybutton, played with the edge of Leonard's jeans, and circled the outside of his nipples. They were perked, of course, it was cold in the apartment and he was shirtless.

Jim hummed, and let go of Leonard's wrists to lean over Leonard's chest to lick one of his nipples. Leonard had never been particularly sensitive there, had never really found nipple-play arousing. He'd always figured that was a woman thing. So he wasn't expecting much when one on Jim's hands came down and held a pink bud between his fingertips.

Then those fingers pinched and twisted. Leonard let out a short yell, automatically attempting to sit up. Jim kept him pressed down. That had _hurt_ damn it! He wanted to snap at Jim, but remembered at the last second that he wasn't supposed to talk.

Leonard took a breath and reminded himself of his safe words, yellow alert and red alert. He could stop this whenever he wanted.

Jim began the rub the abused bud. Which might seem like an apology or something except that the area was now slightly bruised, and Jim rubbing it was only creating twinges of pain to run through his body. Which was not arousing at all, not even a little –"Aahh!" –bit. Fuck.

"You like that, don't you pet?" No, no he didn't. "Don't lie to your master," Jim chided when Leonard shook his head, "I can feel your arousal, Bones." Jim flicked his abused nipple at the same time that he ground down on Leonard's hips. A strangled moan escaped McCoy's throat. That wasn't _fair_!

"Look how hot I can make you from just one, what do you think will happen when I include the other one?" Jim's fingers rubbed lightly over Leonard's non-abused nipple, making it perk up even more that it already had.

Leonard whined.

Jim pulled the bud between his teeth, and sucked on it lightly. He would bite any second now. Leonard knew he would, any second. Jim licked it, then blew on it, all the while still pinching at his other, abused nipple. Leonard squirmed.

Jim would pull the bud in between his teeth, and Leonard would be sure he would bite down, sure the pain would come. Instead Jim would suck on it, or rolling the bud around in his mouth for a minute before releasing it. Which was awful. Leonard wished Jim would just get it over with instead of building up the suspense like this. He felt himself whine again when Jim released his nipple for the fourth time without biting, while his other nipple was pinched again mercilessly.

Jim chuckled, the sadistic bastard. "Tell me pet, has anyone ever played with you like this?"

What was that supposed to mean? Had anyone else sat on top of him while bruising his nipples? No of course not! "You're not lying to me, are you Bones?" Jim asked when McCoy shook his head. McCoy shook his head again, no.

"Good boy," Jim breathed, and then bit down. Leonard cried out, and his back arched automatically. The pain shot down to his groin to mix with his arousal.

Leonard tried to catch his breath as Jim looked down at him. Blue eyes traveled over every inch of McCoy's exposed body, his sweat soaked hair, his blown wide pupils, his hands curled into the sheets, his heaving chest, and his perked, abused nipples. And for some terrible, awful reason Jim decided that this would be a great time to get up and off of McCoy. Leaving Leonard cold and aroused.

By the time Leonard realized Jim wasn't getting back on, Jim was already near the door. "I'd take a cold shower if I were you, Bones. I'll be back tomorrow, and expect a repeat performance if your drunk when I get here."

That wasn't. fucking. _Fair!_

X

The next morning was Wednesday, meaning no work. Since Jim wasn't there yet, it also meant Leonard should get some of his other stuff done. Making himself breakfast, he noticed that the box, the one with the collar in it, was still on the table. Had Jim forgotten it? Or had he left it there on purpose?

Munching on his cereal, Leonard couldn't help but stare at the box. Maybe the collar wouldn't be so scary if he saw it again without Jim next to him? Leonard let his fingers trail over the box lightly, before pulling them away. He was being stupid.

After several more bites of cereal, Leonard's fingers were back, this time he pulled the lid off. Seeing the collar reminded Leonard why he'd freaked out in the first place. It was _Leather_, and had metal studs. Good lord, how cliché could one get? Granted, the bone shapes of the metal were unusual, but that was not at all reassuring.

Leonard quickly closed the box again and shoved it to the other side of the tiny table. He gobbled down the rest of his breakfast and quickly went to do his dishes.

The collar had a sort of attraction to it. A dark, terrifying temptation that pulled Leonard back to it even though he really didn't want to. Leonard would force himself to do things, anything, to distract him from the collar. But whenever he was done, or taking a break, his eyes and fingers would wander back to the object.

He opened the windows, even the tiny one above his bed that felt like it hadn't been opened in years, then stared at the collar for a while, shutting the lid quickly when he realized he was leaning in to touch it. He gathered up his dirty cloths into two bags, brought them to the Laundromat down the road, then came back and poked the smooth leather, just once, before freaking out and shutting the box again. He picked up the random newspapers lying on the floor, folding them and then chucking them back onto his growing tower of newspapers. Then Leonard ran his fingertips over the leather. He did all the dishes, then felt the cold smooth surface of the bone-shaped studs. He picked up his laundry, put them into the dresser, then picked up the entire collar.

What was he doing? Leonard shoved the collar and the top back into the box and took a step back. He had goose bumps on his arms. Good lord, he needed something to keep him busy, something to keep him from being pulled back to the collar by some invisible evil force.

Maybe he should clean out all the bottles that had accumulated over the past eight months. Looking around the room, Leonard realized that he didn't have the energy nor motivation for that. Maybe just the loose bottle caps?

That turned out to be a bad idea. The bottle caps were scattered all throughout the empty and mostly empty bottles. He'd pick a cap up and have to stare at a nice mouthful of wine, or whisky, or bourbon at the bottom of some bottles. After five or so caps, Leonard began to feel himself shake with the need for his liquid poison. Throwing the caps away, Leonard collapsed at the table. He wasn't going to drink any. He wasn't a god damn alcoholic and if he didn't want to he wasn't going to drink any!

McCoy was unsurprised to find himself staring at the collar again. What was so scary about it anyway? It was just an object. Many people got these. There was nothing inherently scary about leather, and if anything, the cartoony bone shapes should make it less scary. Real bones didn't look like that. Leonard was a doctor so he knew the shape of all 206 bones in the human body. None of them looked like cartoony half harts connected by a straight line.

Picking up the collar, Leonard quickly realized that regardless of what his mind said, he was still frightened of the thing. Leonard pushed the collar back in the general direction of the box, and then stood up. Lunch, he could make lunch.

After making, eating, and cleaning up after lunch, Leonard made his couch-bed, and then inevitably found himself back at the table.

Picking the collar back up, Leonard wondered what it would feel like around his neck. He placed a part of his collar against his neck. The metal studs penetrated through the leather in order to keep them in place, the metal backs of the studs were smooth but cold against his neck.

Leonard took a breath. The panic was there, he hadn't expected it not to be, but it was manageable. Leonard took another breath, feeling the way the collar shifted slightly as he did so, and then pulled the collar off. He buried his face in his arms, what was he doing?

A knock came at the door. Opening it McCoy was faced with Jim, who, as he always did, examined Leonard from tip to toe. Jim's eyes landed on something and he grinned in that hungry, half-terrifying, half-arousing way of his. With a jolt, Leonard belatedly realized that he was still holding the bone-studded collar.

"Well then Bones, shall we try wearing the collar today?"

X

Hello everyone, sorry it's taken me so long to update, but university has started up again and I don't have a lot of free time anymore. :/ Unfortunately this means that the story will continue to update slowly from now on. :( Sorry.

But please leave a review! I love hearing what everyone thinks of my story. This is the first time in aBSC that I wrote from someone else's point of view. What did you think? Were M'Benga's frustrations with McCoy understandable?


	5. Rewards

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter 5: Rewards

Disclaimer: I do not own star trek or any of its characters.

X

It had been four weeks since he first wore the collar. The first couple times that Jim had fastened it around his neck Leonard had all out panic attacks. The panic attacks had cropped up 3 or 4 times after the initial couple times as well. Four weeks later, Leonard still had to repress the fear –or was it excitement? - that gathered in his gut when Jim wrapped the leather around his neck. There was a soft clicking of metal against metal as Jim fastened the clasp. McCoy tried to keep his breathing even.

Once the collar was fastened, Leonard had to remind himself to shut down his word use. He was not allowed to speak when the collar was on. He'd done it once. Leonard didn't even remember what he said or why, but the swift smack he'd gotten against his bare ass had quickly discouraged him from trying again.

Jim turned him around. His eyes traveled over Leonard's body, clear blue taking in every detail. Jim always did this to check if he was drunk or hurt. Since Leonard was neither, Jim stepped in closer again with an approving purr and began to peal off Leonard's shirt.

Leonard let him, raising his arms when Jim whispered, "up." With Leonard's shirt removed, Jim was free to let his hands wander over exposed skin, which he did. Jim was also free to rub and pinch at his nipples until the buds were hard to the touch, which he did as well. Leonard couldn't quite control some soft little gasps from escaping him, the buds were still sore from when Jim thoroughly abused them last Saturday.

Leonard looked away with a blush; both because of his previous little gasps and because of the memories of the things he'd done last Saturday sprung to the forefront of his mind. Jim hummed his approval.

The wandering hands traveled down to the rim of Leonard's jeans. Jim's finger's played with the edge, dipping down under it to stroke he flesh below before coming back up. Leonard wished he'd just pull them down normally instead of teasing him like this. Leonard swallowed a whine. Jim eventually did remove the pants and underwear, but by that time Leonard was already half hard, and had been felt up at least five times.

Jim let his blue eyes wander over Leonard once more, this time with completely different intentions. Leonard could feel the burn of Jim's gaze wander over his skin. The way Jim's eyes paused when they landed on Leonard's exposed cock made it harden. Arousal and nerves flooded through his body.

Leonard wondered lightly what Jim would do to him today. Leonard hadn't know that there were so many different pleasurable things to do, especially ones that didn't involve actual sex. But there were, and Jim seemed to know all of them. He hoped that whatever they were doing today would not involve his already aching nipples. They had hurt all day yesterday, and it's hard to act professional when every more you make shifts cloth over bruised and sensitive spots.

One of Jim's fingers looped itself around the collar's D-ring, the large ring that was usually used to attach the leash, and he tugged. Leonard staggered after him, allowing himself to be pulled along to the bed-couch. Jim sat down on the edge, pulling Leonard down with him.

Thinking that this was going to be another one of those times where he would sit on Jim's lap, Leonard started to move forward to do so. Jim stopped him with a solid hand on his chest.

"Now, now, pet," Jim purred, "don't be too hasty."

Confused, McCoy allowed himself to be positioned in front of Jim. It wasn't until there was a sharp downward tug on his collar that Leonard realized what was happening. His muscles froze up, keeping him in place for a couple seconds before a second tug snapped him out of it and pulled him to his knees.

The STD test results had come back two weeks ago, both completely negative. So he'd known some kind sexual intercourse would come eventually. That didn't mean this was any less terrifying.

Leonard took several deep breaths to try to quell his anxiety. The hand on his head, stroking his hair softly, helped. "There-there boy, you're doing very well," Jim whispered. Leonard's breathing slowly went back to normal.

"Now," Jim continued, one of his feet tapped lightly against Leonard's knees, "back up a bit," Leonard shuffled backward until Jim's grip on his hair tightened, "good boy," Leonard could feel a slight twinge of happiness- pride?- when Jim spoke those words. Which was ridiculous, but at the same time, Leonard knew that Jim had been conditioning him to associate those words with accomplishment and post-sexual euphoria, so it was almost natural that he had such a reaction.

Jim's foot made it's way between McCoy's knees. "Now spread your legs, Bones." Leonard shuffled them apart a bit, "wider," Leonard spread them a little wider. "Wider," Jim growled. Leonard flinched at the tone and spread his knees as far apart as they would go, further apart than shoulder length, leaving his dick hanging untouched between his spread thighs, exposed to the cold air. "Good boy," Jim purred, petting his hair.

Still a little shaken from Jim's previous angry tone, Leonard almost missed the sound of a zipper unzipping. He looked up, startled, to see a cloth covered bulge between Jim's legs. As Jim pulled his underwear down too, Leonard realized that this was the first time he'd seen Jim's penis. He'd _felt_ it before, it was kind of hard not to when straddling a man's thighs naked, but Jim had never actually disrobed, so to speak, before.

It was huge. Maybe it just seemed that way because it was only a foot away from his face and fully erect, but it seemed way too large. Oh god, he was going to have to put that in his mouth! Leonard had to quell the surge of disgust he felt.

"Go on pet," Jim growled, tightening his grip in Leonard's hair. Leonard realized why Jim had him back up earlier as he started to move forward as slowly as possible. It was because this way he couldn't just stay comfortably squatted, and instead had to support himself on his knees. This would undoubtedly get heavy within a couple minutes. Also, his ass was sticking up in the air, displaying itself for all to see.

Leaning forward, Leonard closed his eyes. 'Don't think too much,' he told himself, and opened his mouth.

X

McCoy lay collapsed in a pile on the couch; his head was in Jim's lap. The first half of their… activities… had been somewhat unpleasant, not to mention unhygienic, but the second half was had been much more enjoyable. After the blowjob, Jim had pulled Leonard up so that he straddled Jim's lap, and ordered Leonard to swallow. After Leonard obeyed, Jim had been more than willing to let his fingers wander and tease. It had gotten to the point where Leonard had been gripping Jim's shoulders desperately, panting and moaning as one of Jim's hands was positioned firmly between McCoy's legs, and the other one held him steady at the small of his back.

Tired and spent, Leonard let himself rest using Jim, who was sitting against the back of the couch-bed, as a pillow. Jim removed his collar, for which Leonard was grateful, the leather would leave large red marks if left on too long, and he did not want visible marks when he went in to work tomorrow morning.

"I see you've been cleaning up," Jim remarked. Leonard blinked the post-coital haze out of his eyes slowly. Jim had been starting up light conversations after their activities. Which was kind of strange. It made Jim seem human instead of as just a dominant scary force that pushed itself into McCoy's life.

"Um, yes. I guess, a bit," Leonard managed to mutter. He had been cleaning up the bottles covering up most of his floor space. First time he'd done so in the nine months he'd been at Riverside. Leonard would bring a crate full of bottles to the grocery store down the road; get five cents back for every bottle.

The problem was that he could only carry one crate at a time, and most of the time he ended up drinking the liquid that remained in the bottles. Today he had managed not to, but yesterday (Friday), Wednesday and Tuesday he'd gotten very drunk. It was just too damn tempting _not_ to drink the alcohol.

"You've done well, Bones."

Leonard was still not entirely comfortable with the way Jim spoke down to him, but he was getting better. Was 'better' the right word? 'Worse'? 'Used to it'? Leonard didn't know.

"How was work?" Jim asked, stroking Leonard's hair.

Leonard responded by talking about the latest kid with a scraped knee that came in. It was kind of odd to talk to Jim. A part of McCoy didn't like how it reminded him of a relationship, this wasn't supposed to be a relationship, but a stronger part of him was so starved for human interaction that he didn't care. Granted, he talked to M'Benga at work, but that was different.

After a few minutes of idle conversation, Leonard asked how Jim's day had been.

"Oh quite well, pet. I started a new project at work, this one doesn't seem all too exciting, but who knows, maybe it will be more interesting than in seems."

It wasn't until that moment that Leonard realized he had no idea what Jim did for a living. "What is your work?"

"I work with computers," Jim responded vaguely, before changing the subject to Leonard's eating habits.

X

At work two days later, Monday, Leonard had some time to kill. M'Begda hadn't been scheduling him any patients between twelve and one, which allowed Leonard to finish up some paperwork and grab a bite to eat. Since he had the time, and access to a computer, McCoy decided to look up Jim Kirk.

As soon as he did so, Leonard remembered where he'd heard the name before. James Tiberious Kirk, the famous hacker.

Kirk had been arrested five and a half years ago, at the age of 24, for hacking into several companies and releasing sensitive information. It was rumored he'd even hacked into the FBI. He was sentenced to one and a half years in federal prison. Apparently the companies he'd hacked into had been doing some pretty serious illegal stuff, so some whistle-blower laws protected him, but not completely. The incident had been widely publicized and quite controversial.

Leonard quickly closed the window.

Holly shit.

He was in a sexual pet-play power relationship with an ex-convict hacker.

Shit shit shit.

Leonard found himself curled up in a corner, forcing himself to keep breathing, with a mantra of swear words running through his head as he tried to keep himself from panicking. Which was obviously not working. Fuck.

The door opened and for a second McCoy was afraid that it would be Jim. It wasn't, of course, it was M'Benga.

M'Benga looked angry at first, but when he saw Leonard his face turned into one of shock and he rushed over.

Shit. Now M'Benga was going to think of him as a pathetic, weak failure, and have all that much more reason to hate McCoy. Leonard had been lucky so far to avoid having M'Benga see him in such a pathetic state, but now it was all over and M'Benga would undoubtedly—

"Breath, McCoy," came M'Benga's calm voice, Leonard realized he was hyperventilating, "take deep breaths, look at me, that's right, now take slow, deep breaths, there we go."

Within a couple minutes of steady eye contact and soft tones, Leonard had his panic under control and his breathing even. Leonard looked away in shame.

"Want to tell me about it?" M'Benga asked.

Leonard grunted. Not really.

"McCoy, I will treat this with the strictest confidentiality."

Leonard didn't make eye contact, "I probably should have told you earlier," he admitted quietly, "I uh… I have panic attacks. You know, sometimes."

"Is that what you do everyday around lunch?"

Leonard's stomach flipped. He'd hoped not to have to tell anyone this, but he was a bad liar and M'Benga deserved to know, as his boss. "No. It's um. I also fall into temporary depressions. You know, sometimes."

"By sometimes, do you mean every day?"

"Not _every_ day," Silence, "but yeah, nearly."

More silence, but Leonard refused to be the one to break it this time. "You should have told me this earlier, McCoy."

Leonard grunted.

"Depression and panic attacks are not untreatable. There is medication-"

"I know; I don't need medication, I'm handling it."

"Mental health is just like physical health. If you're sick, you need to-"

"I know. I don't need medication," I don't want medication, I don't want to acknowledge I'm sick, I don't want to admit defeat.

"You're a terrible patient." Leonard looked up in slight surprise. M'Benga had a hesitant smile on his face.

"I'm a doctor. I heard all of us are terrible patients."

M'Benga let out a chuckle, "I'm not going to force you, but I do want you to give the idea some more thought."

Leonard grunted again, then stood up. "I should get back to work, I have a patient in…" he checked his watch, "five minutes ago. Shit. Sorry about that."

M'Benga got up as well, dusting off his knees, "It's alright. But if this keeps being a problem, you need to find ways of taking care of yourself."

McCoy nodded, then quickly went out to find his next patient, hoping that would be the last time M'Benga'd mention it.

It wasn't, of course. M'Benga came back the next day with lunch, and wouldn't leave until Leonard had eaten. Leonard still fell into a depressed mood, but it didn't seem to deter M'Benga when Leonard stopped talking and just stared blankly for a while, forcing himself to keep breathing as the darkness tried to strangle him. M'Benga stayed in McCoy's office, and talked to Leonard until he could muster up the energy to get back to work. Part of him was grateful for the concern; another part of him wished the other doctor would just leave him alone.

X

Leonard picked up the last bottle from the crate. It was the last one that had littered his house, and the last one to disappear into the recycling. A beautiful bourbon, well aged and delicious. It only had a mouthful left. Not nearly enough to get drunk, just enough to wet his mouth, to taste it. But Jim would be coming over in a couple hours, he would be able to smell alcohol on Leonard's breath if he had any now.

McCoy gulped down a bite of air, then pushed the bottle into the recycling bin. The last one. Now his apartment would be bottle-free. Leonard picked up the 98 cents that was his change for the bottles he'd just delivered, and sank to the ground. His hands were shaking. He hadn't thought recycling would be so damn difficult.

Leonard grabbed the empty crate and dragged himself home. He would do the grocery shopping later. He was too tired now, and he needed to bring his energy up so he could confront Jim about his hacker past. Collapsing onto his couch, Leonard told himself he'd just take a quick nap, and then get up to make dinner before Jim got here.

Leonard was awoken by a knock on the door several hours later. Dragging himself out of bed, Leonard shuffled over to it. He steeled himself for the conversation ahead. He wasn't going to let Jim distract him from this conversation. "Jim," he said as the man walked through the doorways.

"Hello Bones," Jim replied with a smile.

Leonard was about to correct him, about to say that it wasn't "Bones", but "McCoy" because he wanted to have a serious conversation about hacking, ex-convict-ness, and virtual privacy. "You finished cleaning up all the bottles," Jim hummed before Leonard got a chance.

"I-I… yes." Leonard stuttered, caught off guard.

Jim pulled up close, pressing Leonard up against one of the bare walls. His blue eyes boring into Leonard, observing him. Calculating. "And you're not drunk," Jim purred, pressing a kiss to Leonard's neck.

Leonard sucked in a shaky breath. He would _not_ let Jim distract him, "We need to talk-"

"You've done such a good job, Bones," Jim breathed, "you've done so very well." The leather collar slipped around Leonard's neck, blocking off his ability to speak, "You've been such a good boy, pet. I think you deserve a reward for your good work, don't you?"

Leonard moaned.

X

McCoy lay curled up under his blankets, naked, exhausted, and in absolute bliss. His blood hummed with pleasurable post-coitus hormones, his mind was in a contented foggy state.

He could hear Jim moving around behind the kitchen counter, but he couldn't be bothered to look up. Leonard nuzzled deeper inside his cocoon of blankets. His wrists hurt a little from when Jim had tied them up with a scarf, his nipples ached from when Jim had bitten them, his groin was still sore from being aroused for too long without release, but good god had Jim made up for all of that and made good on his promise of a reward. Jim's mouth was unbelievably good. Heavenly, devilishly talented and quite literally orgasmic. Holy Hell.

The scent of food brought Leonard out of his sleepy haze. Was Jim making food? Sitting up, Leonard blinked the sleep out of his eyes and looked over at Jim. The man was making food. Which was surprising because Leonard hadn't realized he'd had all that much food left in his house.

"Be careful Bones," Jim said with a playful smirk, "If you don't stop looking quite so ravishing soon, I might have to pull you into another round." Leonard could feel his face heat, and quickly went to look for his clothes, which were scattered around the floor. The very empty, bottle-less floor.

Leonard scurried to gather his clothes, and then hopped into the tiny bathroom to clean himself off. Jim had apparently enjoyed himself as well, all over Leonard's stomach. Reaching for his collar, Leonard realized he wasn't wearing it. This meant that Jim must have removed it earlier, meaning Leonard was allowed to talk.

"You're making food," Leonard commented, as he stepped out of the tiny bathroom.

"Indeed I am," Jim agreed, "stir-fry, in fact." As if that explained anything.

"Alright…" Leonard said slowly, "Why?"

"Your reward for cleaning out all the alcohol."

"Wasn't _that_" Leonard motioned vaguely to the messed up bed, "the reward?"

"_That_" Jim imitated, also motioning to the bed, "was fun. Pleasurable. This is extra." Leonard didn't really have anything to say to that. Wasn't there something he wanted to talk to Jim about?

It wasn't until dinner was served that Leonard remembered what he wanted to say.

"Jim, we need to talk."

"What's wrong, Bones?"

"McCoy."

"Pardon?"

"I'm 'McCoy' right now."

Jim straightened himself, letting his playful smile drop off his face. "All right then doctor. What seems to be the problem?"

"I looked you up yesterday." Leonard waited to see if Jim would interrupt, he didn't. "You're a hacker."

"_Was_ a hacker." Jim emphasized.

Leonard swallowed nervously, "Right. Yeah. And an ex-convict."

Jim hummed his agreement, eyes narrowing. Leonard swallowed; he could quickly feel his nerve disappearing. "I just, I need to know. What with you being good with computers and all… How much do you know about me?"

Jim raised his eyebrows, "What do you mean?"

"I-I mean. I want my privacy," which sounded like a really dumb thing to say to someone who had spread you out naked on a bed less than an hour ago. It had sounded less dumb in his head. "I don't want you looking into my past with your computery-voodoo. Because of, you know, rights and privacy and things." Wow, yeah, it sounded a lot less dumb in his head.

On the plus side, Jim looked thoroughly amused. "Computer voodoo?" he asked. Leonard looked away stubbornly. "Don't worry doctor, I haven't gone digging into your past. You were quite clear on the fact that this isn't a romantic relationship, nor will it ever be. I won't hack into your past, just as you won't be digging into mine, yes?" Leonard nodded. "Good, then we can both agree to respect each other's 'rights and privacy and things'."

Leonard shot him a glare at the mocking tone. Jim grinned. "Good," Leonard muttered, then took a bite of his stir-fry, completely intent on telling Jim that his food sucked.

It was delicious.

Damn.

X

Jim had told him before he left Tuesday that he wouldn't be there Thursday evening. It was the first time Jim had missed a day and Leonard was enjoying his day off. He didn't miss Jim in the least.

He made himself dinner, opened the windows, cleaned the bathroom, closed the windows, opened them again, walked outside for a while and closed the windows again.

Good lord.

He had no idea what to do with himself without Jim there.

X

Jim arrived at thee o'clock the next day. Three hours earlier then normal. "You're early," Leonard commented as he let Jim in.

Instead of responding, Jim looked McCoy up and down, studying him, observing. Then Jim grinned, which made Leonard more nervous than excited. "You're neither drunk, nor hung over," Jim declared, "do you know what that means?"

"That you're not going to be a freaking cock-tease?"

Jim leaned forward, moved his head down a little, and bit down hard on Leonard's neck. McCoy flinched from the slight pain while a jolt of electricity raced down to his cock. "Don't be rude to your master, Bones," Jim chided against Leonard's neck, "it means that this is officially the first week you've been completely sober since we started our," Jim paused, "arrangement."

Was this really the first week he'd gone without drinking? Leonard shouldn't be that surprised, it had only been about 5 -6?- weeks since he'd met Jim. "So?"

"So I'm going to reward you again today," Jim said huskily, his fingers already unbuttoning Leonard's shirt. Leonard let him. Another dinner? Leonard wondered mildly. "You're going to enjoy this, Bones. Trust me."

With another kiss to Leonard's collarbone, Jim pulled himself away and walked outside. Leonard blinked, disoriented. Had Jim just left? What? Why?

The blond walked back inside. He was carrying some stuff, were those pillows? And what was that bottle he was holding? Instead of showing his things to Leonard, Jim dumped them of the bed, dropped the bottle on the table, and picked up the collar from the dresser.

"Do you remember your safe words?"

"Yes, am I going to have to use them?"

Cool to the touch leather wrapped itself around Leonard's neck, marking him as Jim's. Claiming him. "No," Jim said gently, fastening the clasp, "You'll enjoy this Bones. You'll be begging for more before the end." Leonard doubted it.

Jim undressed him slowly and maneuvered him onto the bed with a lot of unnecessary strokes and touches. Which were all ridiculously arousing. So much so that by the time Leonard was lying down on his back, he was fully aroused and panting. Jim took off his shirt, revealing those delicious abs underneath. Jim smirked when he caught Leonard staring. McCoy looked away quickly with a slight blush.

Jim crawled over McCoy, hovering above him without touching. Instead of attacking Leonard's neck or chest like he normally would, Jim reached over and brought one of the pillows up to McCoy's head. "Here," he said, "You'll want this." Confused, Leonard went to put the pillow under his head. At the same time, Jim grabbed the other pillow and held it by McCoy's hips. "Lift your hips up, pet," Jim instructed. Leonard obeyed automatically.

It wasn't until his hips rested upon the pillow that Leonard realized what was happening. Jim was preparing him. Holy shit. Jim was preparing him for sex. Actual sex. Oh fuck. McCoy crossed his legs and pulled them up to his chest. Oh shit. Leonard's breath caught in his throat. Oh shit oh shit oh shit.

"Relax pet," Jim coaxed, "I've got you. No need to panic, Bones." Instead of doing something comforting, Jim bit down on Leonard's neck again, in the same spot he had bitten before. It hurt. Leonard's hands buried in Jim's hair and he tugged. Leonard cried out slightly, and then took several breaths before letting out a strangled grunt. The pain gave him something to concentrate on, something beyond the fear he felt.

After Leonard's breath had returned to normal Jim's teeth let go of their grip on Leonard's neck. "Good boy, Bones," he praised, letting one of his hands run through Leonard's hair. With a kiss to the abused spot on McCoy's neck, Jim backed up, taking a seat behind McCoy. It helped that he was still wearing pants.

"Come now, pet," Jim purred, "no need to be so fearful, this is a reward, remember?" His hands ran up and down Leonard's thighs soothingly, coaxing them back to where they should be. Leonard let out a soft little whimper. "Do you remember your last reward, Bones? How good that felt?" In spite of himself, Leonard did remember. And good lord Jim's lips had felt so good. His cock twitched. Leonard relaxed enough for Jim to bring his legs back into place, one on either side of Jim, so that Leonard was spread out, naked and scared in front of his master.

Jim spent a couple minutes stroking him and whispering words of praise and encouragement to him. It helped a little, but Leonard was still afraid. He hadn't thought he was ready for this. There was a pop, and Leonard looked down to see Jim had opened a bottle of lubrication and was spreading it out on his hand.

A cold, wet finger traced a circle around his entrance, Leonard shivered. "Try to relax pet," Jim advised, "take a deep breath. Breath in." Leonard breathed in, Jim's finger penetrated him. It was cold, but it didn't hurt. The idea was just uncomfortable; someone else had a finger up his ass. Leonard tensed up.

"There we go pet. That's not so bad is it?" It wasn't, Leonard had to admit. Jim leaned forward and his lips latched onto one of McCoy's nipples while the hand that wasn't partially migrating up Leonard's ass started stroking his cock back to life. Within a minute Leonard was panting again, back arched. "That's a good boy Bones," Jim whispered, his voice deep. A second finger pushed its way into Leonard's entrance. This one didn't enter quite so smoothly, but it didn't quite hurt either.

Leonard whimpered pathetically and grabbed a hold of Jim's shoulders for support. The fingers move around, exploring and stretching. Leonard would have tensed up further, but Jim's other hand was running a finger over the tip of Leonard's member. Leonard moaned.

After a couple more seconds of exploration, Jim's fingers pressed upon an amazing stop. Leonard saw white for a second from the pleasure as he cried out. "Found it," Jim whispered triumphantly. Jim must have stroked his prostate gland through the wall of his colon.

Leonard wished he could turn the "doctor" side of his brain off sometimes. It wasn't very sexy.

Once Jim knew where his prostate was, he used the information to it's fullest potential. Leonard was moaning and panting from the pleasure as both of Jim's hands worked wonders on him. Leonard's fingers gripped Jim's shoulders so tightly that his knuckled were white. He was close, so damn close and Jim hadn't even-

"Come, my pet," Jim growled in his ear, "Come with my fingers up your ass." Leonard did, coming with a strangled cry.

Jim pulled his fingers out as Leonard lay panting on the bed. Jim got up, wet a paper towel and wiped McCoy clean of his own cum. Leonard was panting, trying to catch his breath after that amazing although confusing orgasm.

Jim sat next to him and stroked Leonard's hair. He automatically turned his head toward the comforting touches. "Did you enjoy yourself Bones?" Jim asked. Leonard gave a short nod. He had. Reaching a hand up, McCoy tapped the collar. He wanted Jim to take it off like he always did after their sessions.

Jim chuckled, "Not yet pet. I've given you a little taste, but our time together isn't done yet. You didn't think I would stop at just fingers, did you?" Leonard looked up at Jim with wide eyes, "I promised you I'd make you beg for more before the end, and I intent to keep my promise." Jim smirked, "But don't worry, we're not in any rush, we still have several hours ahead of us."

X

Jim made good on his promise to make Leonard beg. McCoy face burned at the memory and he kept his face buried in one of the pillows Jim had given him. Jim had apparently brought a salve, something to help prevent muscle soreness. He was currently applying it lavishly to McCoy's ass, inside and out.

Jim had made him come twice more since the initial time, both with a two or three hour of break in between. The second time had been due to a dildo. McCoy had thought it was just another one of those "stretching exercises" (or whatever Jim had wanted to call them), but once the thing was inside… Leonard buried his face deeper into the pillow at the thought… it had started to move. Not just a little bit, it practically jack hammered against his prostate. Which was unfair. Leonard had been on his stomach for that one, and he'd pulled himself up onto his knees in an effort to try to get something- anything- to give him that final push. Jim had prolonged the excitement as long as he could, but Leonard had been crying out and moaning in pleasure within about thirty seconds. He hadn't lasted two minutes.

Jim had then explained to him a new command, speak. If Jim ordered him to speak, Leonard was allowed to talk even if he had the collar on. However, he was only to call Jim "Master". Which was ridiculous. Leonard had decided right away to just never say anything when Jim ordered him to speak.

The third time McCoy had been on his back again, with a pillow for support under his hips, for which he was now grateful. Jim had prepared him, aroused him with strokes and bites, and then fucked him. Jim had stretched him so far that it hurt, but at the same time the penetration was exhilarating. His body knew of the pleasure to expect once Jim was inside, and Jim did not let him down. He'd been slow at first, with soft instructions to relax. Once Leonard started panting from pleasure, Jim picked up the pace. Leonard didn't remember how long it took, but he did remember being so hard his dick hurt, and Jim still hadn't given him permission to come. Leonard also remembered that that was the time Jim ordered him to speak. Completely ignoring the decision he'd made earlier to not say anything, Leonard had begun begging and pleading Jim to please –_please_- let him come. He'd begged for harder, and more and _please_. Making the mistake of saying "Jim", Leonard had received a light smack on his ass, after which he remembered to only call Jim "Master". Which, Leonard was ashamed to say, he did repeatedly.

"Please Master," Leonard had cried, "Please more! Master please! Ah! Please let me come!"

When Jim had finally given him permission to come, Leonard did so with a cry, Jim still buried inside him. Jim had come a couple thrusts later, emptying himself inside of McCoy.

Finishing up with the salve, Jim walked over and stroked Leonard's hair. "Did you enjoy yourself Bones?" Leonard didn't look up, his face was still burning from all the humiliating things he'd done, but he nodded. He had enjoyed himself, a lot. "Good," Jim whispered, leaning down and placing a kiss on the developing bruise on Leonard's neck, "Because you were absolutely gorgeous my pet." With those parting words, Jim left the apartment.

X

Author's Notes: Hello everyone. Sorry it's taken me so long to update. I've been real busy. Hopefully the extra long chapter helped make up for it. Please don't forget to leave a comment! Your comments help me write. :)


	6. Pet Park

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter 6

The Pet Park

X

Leonard wasn't walking funny. He was just walking carefully. He also sat down slowly. His ass muscles were not accustomed to being fucked. So he was careful, didn't bump into anyone, and didn't walk too quickly. But he was not limping, and Leonard took pride in that.

He was also wearing a turtleneck sweater to cover up the large purple bruise on his neck. Those did hurt.

Around noon, M'Benga walked into McCoy's office again, this time with lunch. Lenard accepted it gratefully, "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it. Just eat."

They talked about a couple of patients. Most of them came for yearly checkups, or scrapes and bruises. But there were a few times that people came to the clinic when they should go to a real hospital. During those times, Leonard and M'Benga wrote the hospital doctors a recommendation and sent the patient to the nearest hospital.

Their conversation was pleasant, and never wandered into the realm of the personal. Leonard didn't fall into a depression either, which was a relief. At some point, M'Benga subtly brushed some fingers against the cuff of Leonard's turtleneck, pushing the cloth back enough to see Leonard's wrists. It was only a second, and Leonard would have brushed it off as an accident if he hadn't seen a flash of relief that crossed M'Benga's face at the uncut and unscarred skin.

Leonard supposed it was a reasonable concern, cutting. Self-harm was not uncommon for people suffering from depression. Leonard wondered if being in a relationship with Jim was his personal form of self-harm.

X

"Is it going to hurt?" she asked, her eyes filled with a bit of fear. The girl was four, brown hair tied up in little pigtails, a pink dress and tiny little shoes.

"No, it won't hurt. You'll just feel a little pinch," Leonard reassured. The girl, Sara was her name, was only a year older than Joanna. Joanna was three, and had shoes even tinier than Sara's. He wondered if she would still call him "daddy" when she was four. He was allowed to visit when Jocelyn allowed it, but she rarely allowed it. He had to make due with weekly phone calls, and that was not enough. His little girl was growing up so fast. He hadn't seen her for over nine months.

After making sure he had the right amount, Leonard gave Sara her shot as quickly and painlessly as possible. She was a brave little girl and didn't cry.

Leonard wondered if Joanna had cried when she'd gotten her yearly flu shot. Leonard had given it to her the years before and she'd been too young to understand. She had cried. But she was three now, and…

Leonard cut himself off, "There we go, all better," he smiled at Sara as he placed the bandage on her arm and reminded himself that this was not his Joanna. "You've been such a brave girl, would you like some candy?" Leonard picked up the candy basket and offered her a piece.

She grinned and took a little candy bar, "Yes! I love candy," She grinned. Leonard's heart broke a little more, wondering when the last time was that he'd seen his little girl smile.

X

"I haven't eaten yet," McCoy said as he let Jim in Tuesday evening two hours earlier than normal. Leonard had only just come home himself.

"We'll eat on the road," Jim responded briskly, "we're going out today."

Leonard froze. "No," he said, Jim raised an eyebrow, "I am not going out in public wearing a collar. Inside my apartment, fine. But we are not going outside, not with a collar, and not with you acting all…" Leonard trailed off, motioning vaguely at Jim.

"All what?" Jim asked, with a slightly deeper tone than the one he'd been using before. When Leonard didn't answer, Jim's hand reached out and gripped McCoy's chin, forcing Leonard to look at him, "'With me acting all' what?" Jim asked again, blue eyes digging into him.

"Dominant," Leonard whispered. Jim seemed pleased with the response, as he smiled and released McCoy's chin.

"We'll be out late, so grab something warm and put on some shoes. And don't forget the collar," Jim said, completely ignoring McCoy's earlier protests. "Also, change your shirt. Put on something a little less… just put on a little less." Leonard froze for a couple seconds.

He knew his safe words. Was he allowed to use them for situations like this? There wasn't even any sex involved yet. Leonard closed his eyes. He was always allowed to use his safe words. Hadn't Jim said that? If they were going out to a public park somewhere, or out on a date… "This isn't romantic, right?" He asked.

"We have rules, McCoy. I'm not going to break them. Now hurry up."

McCoy changed his shirt into a tighter fitting black one. Jim had shown his… appreciation (if that's what you want to call it) for that shirt before, so Leonard figured it was a good choice. He also gabbed his coat, put on some shoes, and grabbed the collar.

The metal studs were cold against his palm.

He handed the collar to Jim when the blond held his hand out, and stood still as the leather made it's way around his neck. Jim fastened it slowly. Once he was done, Jim pressed Leonard against the wall firmly, face first.

"One more thing, before we go," Jim whispered. His hands wandered to the front of Leonard's pants, unzipped them, and pulling both pants and underwear down to Leonard's knees. Leonard froze. "Relax pet," Jim soothed. Leonard heard a pop of a bottle opening, followed by the sensation of cold oily fingers slipping between his ass cheeks.

One of the fingers entered, and Leonard had to bite his lip to keep from demanding why Jim was doing this. Was Jim going to fuck him before they left? A second finger entered and Leonard tensed more. He knew it could feel good, but Jim wasn't aiming for his prostate, just stretching him. Was this going to be painful?

The fingers left. "Relax pet, you know your master would never hurt you," Jim whispered. There was some ruffling, then something else pressed against Leonard's entrance. It was too cold to be flesh. As it pushed inside, deeper and deeper, Leonard realized it was a dildo.

His cheeks flushed. He remembered the last time this had been inside him. He had moaned like a two-dollar whore and come with barely more then a light touch to his leaking member.

The toy wasn't on. Thank goodness. As soon as it was all the way in, Jim pulled McCoy's pants back up and moved away. "Lets go pet," Jim purred.

Leonard followed Jim outside, but paused as Jim walked toward his car. There was a moment of hesitation, then "Jim, I'm not getting in the car till you tell me where we're going."

Jim frowned, "Come now pet, you know better than to talk with your collar on."

"I'm serious Jim. Where are we going?" Leonard asked. He wasn't going to budge on this.

Jim frowned and started walking toward the other man, "Come now pet. You know the rules."

Leonard growled, "Yellow-freaking-alert Jim! I'm serious. I'm not just getting into your car without knowing where we're going, or how long we'll be gone. It's not happening!"

Jim's entire demeanor changed. He took a step back, his frown was replaced with a calm expression, his hands fell down to his sides and his shoulders sagged. Suddenly he looked a lot less aggressive. "All right, Dr. McCoy," he said carefully, "We're going to the nearby city, an hour away, to a club."

Leonard took a deep breath. A club. "What kind of club?"

Jim paused, "A club specifically for relationships like ours. Pets and masters. I figure it might be nice for you to see we're not the only ones. Pet play is not as unusual as you might think."

"Why wouldn't you tell me?" McCoy growled.

Jim kept an unaggressive demeanor, "Partially because I was excited, and didn't think to tell you, and partially because I wanted it to be a surprise. Thought you'd be excited."

McCoy took a deep breath. He wasn't sure he wanted to go to this, but at least Jim was answering his questions. "Ok, for future notice, I don't like surprises, and I do not like not knowing where I am."

"Duly noted," there was a pause, "Anything else?"

Leonard paused. He didn't know if he wanted to go, or what a pet-master club would be like. "Do I have to go?"

"No," Jim replies calmly, "you never have to do anything if you do not want to. However, it really isn't as scary as you think."

This was probably silly but… "No chains or painful things?"

"None. Though I won't guarantee you'll leave un-ravished," Jim grinned.

Leonard fingered his collar; "I do not want to wear the collar on the car ride there."

"Alright," Jim said, "You can take it off." Leonard did. It was a relief to be able to speak without feeling guilty about it.

Leonard was quiet for a second, "I guess we should… continue now?" he asked hesitantly.

X

An hour or so later, Jim had parked the car, and the two of them had walked a block to find themselves in front of a door. It wasn't a particularly flashy door, it didn't have obscenities on it, nor large shiny arrows pointing to it saying "creepy fetish club, enter here!" It was painted black, and located on an innocent enough looking street.

In fact it looked quite unremarkable other than a small plaque over the doorbell that read, "Pet Park".

"You should put your collar back on before we go back in, doctor," Jim's voice surprised Leonard.

"Oh, um, right," Leonard fished the bone-studded collar out of his pocket, "here," he said, offering the strap of leather to Jim, "You do it."

The leather wrapped around his neck once again. Slowly. By the time the collar was completely fastened, Leonard had goosebumps, and when Jim blew on his neck his entire body shivered. McCoy felt Jim lean forward; Jim's lips touched Leonard's neck softly, right under the collar. The light touch quickly turned into a short hard bite, making Leonard gasp.

"You are not to speak a word tonight, not to anyone. Is that understood pet?" Jim growled. Jim's dominant persona was back. Leonard nodded. "Good boy," Leonard shivered, "and don't worry Bones, you'll enjoy yourself tonight."

Jim opened the door and led the way inside. Inside was a well-lit room with at least three couches. There were several doors leading in and out of the room, and in one corner there was a bar. Leonard wondered what the chances were that he could get to the bar and order just a little glass of liquid courage. Probably zero, he thought with more than a little hint of disappointment. Jim was pretty clear about the "no-alcohol" thing.

There was also no chains, or whips, or torture devices of any kind in sight. In fact, nothing weird at- oh never mind, that guy is dressed entirely in leather. Also about half the people in this room are wearing a collar, some even had leashes.

While Leonard looked around the room and cringed slightly at the some of the things people were wearing (or not wearing), Jim paid the entrance fees and showed the bouncer his and Leonard's IDs.

"Come pet," Jim called as he walked forward through the room confidently. Leonard followed hastily, terrified of being left alone in this unknown place. Jim led Bones to a staircase, and up two flights of stairs before entering a smaller room than the one downstairs. The room only had about five people in it, seven if you included Jim and Leonard, and only one couch. The couch was currently inhabited by one of the most gorgeous woman Leonard had ever seen.

Leonard had known for quite a while that he was bisexual, so the fact that Jim was male had never been the largest issue with accepting their weird relationship. Granted, it was an issue, society still didn't always accept openly gay people, but the pet play aspect had been significantly scarier.

However, despite being bi, Leonard usually found himself more attracted to women and to men, and this woman was _attractive_, incredibly so. Her skin was dark and perfect, her dark brown hair tied up in a strict ponytail, and her body- Leonard let out a soft squeak- was _gorgeous._ She was curved and tall with amazing legs. She wore a net shirt over her black corset, skintight leather leggings, and knee-high leather boots.

Leonard was raised in the south, and he was raised properly, so he tried not to stare, and he tried not to even think it, but her breasts were _gorgeous_. They were large, round, and pushed up into an amazing display by the leather corset.

Maybe Jim had come up to great her, or maybe he saw the way Leonard was staring and decided to be cruel, but whatever the reason Jim called out to the woman across the room, "Madam Uhura," he called with a slight wave.

Madam Uhura looked up from where she had been in a conversation with another man, smiled, and excused herself from her companion. As she walked over to them Leonard noticed two things. First, her breasts bounced slightly as she walked, god they were amazing. Second, she was carrying a riding crop. This probably meant she was the dominant type, not the pet.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't Captain Kirk," she greeted as she approached.

"Come now Madam Uhura, you know I haven't gone by that name in quite some time now," Jim responded as he and Madam Uhura shook hands.

"No? Then what have you been up to? I haven't seen you in months Jim. I was staring to worry you'd moved back to New York City and found a club you enjoyed more than mine."

"A better club than the Pet Park? Never," Jim put on a faint air of being affronted, and continued the conversation as he and Uhura walked back over to the couch. Apparently Uhura was the owner of the place.

Leonard felt kind of weird, being completely and blatantly ignored. Jim hadn't even introduced him! Was he supposed to follow? After a second of hesitation he quickly scurried after Jim. Better to be ignored than to be alone in a room full of wield people.

When Jim and Uhura sat down on the couch, Leonard followed suit awkwardly. Jim turned to him sharply, "Off the couch Bones," he ordered. Leonard blinked, he couldn't be serious. Thinking back, Leonard realized that all collared "pets" on the first floor had been sitting on the ground, none had been on the couches. He stood up slowly, still staring at Jim, and his piercing blue eyes. Once he was standing in front of Jim, he received another order, "now sit."

On the ground? Leonard thought. He debated rebelling for a few seconds, running away back to the car and waiting there for Jim to take him home. The moment was gone quickly, and he sunk to his knees blushing furiously.

Leonard started when he felt something cold beneath his chin. It pushed his chin up so that he was looking at madam Uhura. She stared at him lazily, as if inspecting a somewhat amusing object, her riding crop pressed underneath his chin. Leonard stared back at her, wide eyed. This woman was terrifying.

"You're pet's somewhat quiet isn't he?" she asked the question without turning away from McCoy, but it was clearly directed at Jim.

"I've forbade him from speaking. It's his first time in such a club, you understand."

Madam Uhura removed her riding crop and sat back in the couch comfortably. McCoy lowered his head and tried to control his breathing. Jim's hand wound itself in his hair and started massaging his scalp in soothing rhythms, which helped. He closed his eyes and just listened to Jim and Uhura speak.

"First time?"

"He's a stray."

"A stray? Well, well, isn't that something. It's been a while since I've seen a stray. When did you find him?"

Their conversation continued, and Leonard calmed down enough to look around some. One of the other… pets?... was looking at him. It was a young-ish looking boy, with dirty blond curly hair and a thin leather collar with a bell that jingled as he walked around on all fours. After a few minutes the young man crawled over to Leonard.

"Hello, you must be new here," he said with a heavy Russian accent, "My name iz Chekkov," he motioned to the man walking toward them, "that iz my master Sulu. What iz your name?"

Leonard blinked at the very strange and forward kid.

"Chekkov," Sulu exclaimed as he caught up with the younger man, "don't just go dashing off like that."

"Sulu," Jim greeted, "it's been a while. How've you been?"

Sulu looked up, "Jim! Good to see you." Sulu joined Jim on the couch as madam Uhura excused herself to attend to club business. Leonard tried not to stare at the way her hips swayed as she walked away, but he couldn't help but steal a glance. She was terrifying, but oh so gorgeous.

"So what's your name, or your pet name if you're more comfortable with that," Chekkov asked again. Leonard just kind of helplessly motioned to his throat and his collar.

Chekkov frowned for a little, then, "you're not allowed to talk?" he asked. Leonard nodded, and the kid's eyes sparkled with amazement before glancing at his master and pouting, "Sulu never does anything cool like that with me. Not fair!"

Chekkov then proceeded to pout for several minutes as Jim and Sulu talked, apparently they were friends. Leonard just kind of tried to get used to sitting on the floor.

Suddenly Chekkov was in Leonard's face with an expression of mischievous excitement. Leonard only had time to blink before Chekkov's lips were on his. Leonard froze with surprise, and Chekkov seemed to take that as an opportunity to push Leonard to the ground and sit atop his hips, lips still firmly pressed to Leonard's.

Leonard was frozen with shock for several seconds, before a soft moan against his lips snapped him out of it. He didn't want to hurt the kid, but this was not going to continue. He grabbed the kid's shoulders and shoved, scrambling backward as soon as Chekkov was off of him.

For a second he wondered if Chekkov was going to try to attack him again. By the way Chekkov was grinning successfully up at his master, Leonard assumed the blond had gotten what he wanted.

McCoy glanced at Jim, wondering if the man was mad. Jim was staring at him intensely. Leonard wanted to proclaim his innocence; he had no part in that weird display!

Jim stood up abruptly, "Follow me pet," he ordered and walked toward another door at the side of the room. Leonard briefly debated going to the car and waiting there again, but once again discarded the notion and followed. He had his safe words after all. He could stop Jim if things ever got out of hand.

The door Jim had walked through led to a one-room bathroom where one of the walls was covered in a ceiling to floor mirror. Jim locked the door behind Leonard.

"Strip," Jim ordered.

Leonard opened his mouth to protest that he was innocent, but stopped himself at the last minute. He was wearing his collar. He took off his clothes slowly, and wondered what Jim would do when he was angry.

Once he was standing in front of Jim bare of all clothing, he felt himself begin to shake. He really didn't want Jim to be mad.

"Bones," Jim's voice made Leonard look up, "are you cold?" Jim asked. Leonard nodded, then shook his head, then nodded again. Jim frowned and stepped forward. Leonard couldn't quite suppress a flinch. Which was dumb, he wasn't that scared, and he always had his safe words.

"Pet," Jim said, lifting Leonard's chin to look him straight in his eyes, "what's wrong pet? Speak."

Leonard hesitated for a second, wasn't he not allowed to speak in the club? Jim narrowed his eyes. "I-I didn't have any part of what the kid did. I mean, I didn't even want him to and, and please don't be mad master." Leonard blurted.

"Mad?" Jim asked, and Leonard could head some humor in his voice, "Bones, I don't mind if you play with other pets. That's what's dogs do, it's part of the fun of going to such a club. To a certain extent of course, don't get carried away. Now if you were to do such a thing with a master other than me, we'd have a problem."

Leonard blinked, "then why- why did you call me in here Master?"

Jim grinned, his eyes traveled over Leonard's body, absorbing every inch. Leonard felt himself start to get hard. "I might not mind if you play with other pets, Bones," Jim began, "But that doesn't mean I don't notice. You don't realize how hot you look when you're all frazzled, do you?" Leonard blinked and Jim flashed that predatory grin of his. "Place your hands on the mirror, spread your legs apart, and bend over just a bit," Jim ordered.

Leonard flushed, but obeyed. The mirror was unnerving, he could see himself, naked and half-hard, presenting himself to his mas- to Jim. He could also see Jim, his piercing eyes drinking in the sight of his pet with approval.

Leonard watched as Jim reached into his pocket and pulled out a- what was that? Leonard only had a second of confusion before his attention was pulled away by a sudden movement. Leonard cried out with a start, he had completely forgotten about the dildo.

He felt himself getting harder as the dildo vibrated against his prostate, sending waves of pleasure coursing up his body. As suddenly as the vibrations started, they stopped. Leonard whined.

"Did you enjoy that, my pet?" Jim asked, holding the remote lightly. Leonard whimpered. "Now, tonight you're going to look at yourself. I want you to see what I see, how gorgeous and absolutely fuckable you are, my pet. You are not to close your eyes, or look away, or even look at me, although I can understand the temptation. Am I making myself clear, pet?"

Leonard nodded and looked at himself in the mirror. He couldn't understand why Jim thought him attractive, he wasn't. Too old, too fat, too plain. Leonard had to stop himself from looking away in shame.

The vibrating started again. This time it lasted long enough to cause Leonard to start panting. Then it stopped. Leonard whined. Jim stepped forward with a chuckle. He reached his hand out and brushed his fingertips up and down Leonard's back. Leonard saw and felt himself begin to shake. "So gorgeous, my pet," Jim purred, his fingers tracing a path down his back and over the curvature of Leonard's ass.

The vibrating began again, and Leonard had to stop himself from moaning as the machine forced pleasure to run through his body. Jim continued this for several minutes. Starting and stopping the vibrator at random times. Sometimes for a few seconds, sometimes for over a minute. Somewhere in the middle tears had started running down his cheeks. He was panting, and fully hard, his legs were shaking with the effort to hold himself up, his nipples erect, and he was on the verge of begging Jim to let him come.

The vibrator turned off again and Leonard couldn't quite suppress a sob. "My poor pet," Jim purred from where he stood behind Leonard, "You're so close to the climax that you're practically begging for it. But I'm afraid I'm not going to let you come just yet." Leonard felt himself sob, he was so close!

"Spread your legs a little wider pet," Jim ordered. Leonard whined pitifully but obeyed. "Good boy" Jim purred, and Leonard almost came at the words.

Jim's fingeres poked at his entrance, then pushed through. Leonard felt the burn as he was stretched open once again. There was pleasure, as Jim's movements sent jolts of it up his spine, and pain, as Jim stretched him wide to pull the vibrator out.

Once it was out, Jim stepped back to put the object down somewhere while Leonard caught his breath. There was a pop. Leonard looked up and saw the reflection of Jim coating his fingers with lubricant. Jim looked up and frowned.

Smack!

Leonard whimpered as Jim's hand connected with his backside. "Keep your eyes on yourself pet," Jim reminded him. Leonard tore his eyes away from Jim and back to himself. He was leaking, Leonard realized, and painfully hard. His ass stung from where Jim had slapped him.

There was a minute of silence as Leonard continued to stare at himself, without knowing what Jim was up to. Was he going to make Leonard wait? Was Jim going to fuck him? He didn't know, he was afraid to look, and the suspense was killing him.

Warm fingers traced around his entrance, warm and wet with lubrication. "You know pet," Jim began calmly, "I'm not going to let you come until I'm inside you." Leonard whimpered and thrust his hips back a bit. Jim hummed in amusement but didn't penetrate his entrance. "I think you should beg your master to fuck you," Jim growled and leaned over Leonard to whisper in his ear, "Speak, and beg for me pet."

"M-Master," Leonard cried out obediently, "Please master, please f-fuck me!"

"Good boy," Jim purred, his slickened fingers going in and out of Leonard's ass, "Look how eager you are pet," Jim continued, "You want me inside of you, don't you?"

"Yes master," Leonard whimpered, trusting back onto Jim's fingers, "Please master, I want you inside of me. I- I need you master, please. Please."

The fingered retreated and Leonard whimpered with the loss, "No, no master please," he mewled. He wasn't entirely sure what he was begging for anymore.

Something larger brushed against his entrance, and Leonard let out a throaty little moan, "Nnnnhh! P-please master, please." Jim entered him slowly, pulling a whine from Leonard. Once he was in, Leonard tried to catch his breath. Jim stretched him wider than the dildo had, and the burn was amazing.

In the mirror he could see himself bent over and dripping with need, with only the collar to cover up his nakedness. Jim was standing over and behind him, still clothed save for his dick, Jim's eyes burned into his.

Jim's hands gripped Leonard's hips and then he thrust. Leonard cried out as Jim continued to thrust. In and out and in and- Ah! Pleasure rushed over him in waves as Jim hit his prostate again and again. He wanted release, he needed it, he- "please ma-master! Aah! M-Master, please allow me to co-come! pl-please," Leonard whimpered between thrusts and ragged breaths.

"Come, my pet," Jim growled as one of his hands reached around to grip Leonard's member. Leonard did, with a cry. Jim followed after a couple more thrusts.

They were quiet for a few minutes, save for their heavy breathing. Jim pressed Leonard against the mirror to hold him up, and Leonard tried to stay awake after the exhausting orgasm. Jim leaned down and placed a kiss on the bite mark he had created before entering the club. Perhaps it was a thank you, or an apology for the rough treatment.

"Good boy, Bones," Jim whispered tiredly in Leonard's ear.

X

Author's note: Hope you enjoyed it. I thought it was important to have a scene where Leonard uses his safe word. So both he and you lovely readers know that he had the will to use them should he feel the need to. It was, however, a hard scene to write. Also, I really had fun imagining Uhura as dominatrix-esque owner of a club.

Next chaper: more about Chekkov and Sulu.


	7. Heartbreak

A Bone Studded Collar

Chapter 7

Heartbreak

X

Jim walked in a slow circle around Leonard, who kept his eyes glued to the ground and shifted uncomfortably. He was standing stalk naked in the middle of his room. He had his collar on of course, but was otherwise completely bare and exposed.

Jim was still fully dressed, and he was carrying- Leonard glanced up then quickly put his head back down- a riding crop. A shiver ran through Leonard that had nothing to do with the cold biting at his skin.

A soft loop of leather found its way under Leonard's chin, and forced him to look up into Jim's eyes, "What's wrong pet? Feeling shy?" Leonard felt his face heat and he tried to look away. The riding crop, however, kept his head from turning away. Jim smiled, "Today you're going to be completely silent, Bones," Jim informed him, "Not a word, not a moan, not a plea, is that understood?" Leonard nodded somewhat reluctantly, still not entirely sure what the riding crop's role was going to be, but trusting that Jim knew what he was doing.

"Get on the bed Bones. On your hands and knees."

Leonard obeyed, ass sticking into the air. Fingertips wandered softly over Leonard's thighs, and up the curve of his hips before trailing back down. The soft touches over sensitized his skin, Leonard knew. He pressed his lips together tightly to prevent himself from uttering a sound.

"Oh, and one more thing Bones," Jim purred in that deceptively light tone of his, "you'll hold this for me, won't you?" Leonard knew better than to think that was an actual question. Opening his eyes (when had he closed them?), McCoy saw the leather whip held in front of his nose. For a second he wondered what he was supposed to do with it, then the whip brushed against his lips.

Opening his mouth, he accepted the crop as it was pressed between his teeth. Like a dog with a stick, Leonard thought to himself. The crop prevented him from sealing his lips. Silence was going to be difficult.

"Good boy, Bones," Jim purred.

X

Leonard let the warm water run over him. The warm water rushed over his body, soothing the red marks on his ass, and softening his still-hardened nipples. He shifted uncomfortably on his legs; Jim had smacked him a couple times when Leonard had inevitably cried out from pleasure. Jim had allowed Leonard to clean himself off between rounds, without his collar. Apparently one mind blowing orgasm wasn't enough for tonight.

Taking a finger, McCoy inserted it into himself, letting Jim's seed flow down his legs and into the drain. With an accidental twist, Leonard brushed against his own prostate. A small gasp escaped his lips and Leonard felt himself getting hard again. He quickly turned the water off.

After drying himself, Leonard wrapped the towel around his hips loosely (it wasn't as if Jim didn't know what was under there), and walked out of his bathroom. Jim was sitting on his couch, talking on the phone, apparently. Raising a curious eyebrow, he sat down next to the blond man.

"That sucks, Sulu," Jim muttered sympathetically, "Of course you can come over, I'll meet you at my house." Jim hung up by snapping his phone shut.

"Checkov's left Sulu for another master," Jim explained. Leonard blinked. That other master/pet couple he'd met before? "I can't say I'm all too surprised either."

"You're not?" Leonard asked, "They looked so…" maybe happy wasn't the right word, "they looked very into each other."

Jim shrugged, "Checkkov's a puppy. A young, excitable creature that will play with whatever exciting toy he comes across. Inexperienced, yes, but so very excited. Sulu, I think, got too attached and was too careful."

Leonard didn't really know what to think about that.

"I'm going to my house, and going to spend the night comforting him, you're coming too."

"I- what? I barely know him. And I don't… I mean, you're house…" Leonard stammered. His images of what Jim's house must look like cropping up in his head.

"Relax, McCoy. Nothing new tonight, nothing "scary", promise. It'll be a good way to get you comfortable with my house anyway. Besides," Jim's hand reached out and cupped Leonard's dick. With a jolt, Leonard realized he was still slightly aroused from the shower. "What kind of master would I be if I left my precious pet unsatisfied?"

X

Jim, it turned out, was rich. His house was ten minutes out of town, and it was practically a mansion. McCoy followed Jim through his front door cautiously, unsure of what to expect.

It was, well, pretty normal looking. For a bachelor. Clothes were thrown around the room half-hazardously, there were dishes here and there, and the living room had a giant TV screen in the middle of it. A definite mark of a bachelor. More importantly, there were no creepy instruments of doom, nor any chains, nor any whips or floggers or anything. Leonard let out a soft sigh.

"It's a lot more… normal, than I expected," Leonard commented.

Jim hummed, "let's see if my couch is more comfortable that yours, shall we? Now, where was your collar?"

Leonard pulled the black leather strip out of his pocket and held it out for Jim, who took it and wrapped it gently around Leonard's neck. "We'll have to be relatively fast, Sulu should be here within an hour," Jim purred into Leonard's ear, "let's start with you stripping down for your master, Bones."

Leonard complied wordlessly, letting his clothes drop to the floor as Jim watched. Jim had forbidden him from wearing underwear earlier, which meant that when he opened his zip his cocked bobbed up. He was already half hard just from Jim's gaze and the friction of undressing. Leonard stepped out of his pants.

Jim hooked a finger in the collar's D-loop, where the leash would normally attach, and pulled Leonard over to his couch. Leonard followed compliantly.

Leonard was bent over the back of the couch, his hands supporting himself on the cushion part, his penis pressed against the hard material of the back, his ass in the air. "Spread your legs, pet," Jim purred, and Leonard obeyed. Jim stroked a finger between Leonard's cheeks, brushing over McCoy's entrance. He was still stretched from earlier that evening, but the lube had all been washed away. The strokes sent shivers down Leonard's back. Jim wasn't going to take him raw, was he?

There was a pop, and Leonard relaxed as Jim's fingers were covered in lube. McCoy opened his eyes, which he hadn't realized he's closed, and stared at the black TV screen. He could vaguely make out the figures that were Jim and himself in the dull reflection of the TV.

"It would have been better if it were a mirror, wouldn't it?" Jim asked casually as he slipped the first two fingers inside. Leonard let out a breathy sigh. After not being allowed to make any noise at all in the last session, the freedom to be loud was suddenly so much more appealing.

"You'd enjoy it, wouldn't you pet? Watching yourself as I fucked you? You could see how undone you become, how desperate and flushed and aroused you are when I finally give you what you crave." Jim's voice was a soft growl above Leonard's head. Leonard was not unaccustomed to dirty talk, but he'd never really heard it from Jim before. He closed his eyes and he moaned softly in agreement.

"Or maybe you'd enjoy a real movie?" Jim asked. "I could make one of just the two of us. We could watch it on the big screen, set the volume real loud. We would watch ourselves as I fucked you; listen to your desperate little cries, your breathy gasps, your slutty moans. Imagine it pet. The whole wall showing how your swollen slutty lips swallow my cock so perfectly. You, on your back, shivering with desire, legs spread and mewling for your master to take you. Would you like that, pet?"

Leonard moaned loudly, picturing it. God, he never knew Jim was so good with words. Jim removed his fingers from McCoy's ass and trust himself in fully. Leonard cried out loudly. Not because it had hurt because it was unexpected, and so good. Jim's thrust pushed his own (painfully hard) member against the back of the couch, a friction Leonard desperately craved. McCoy could also feel Jim's pants push against his thighs, reminding Leonard that Jim was still fully dressed, while Leonard so very naked.

"Yes," Jim growled, "just like that, pet. You would be so beautiful, moaning and twisting. I'd get a nice close up of your ass as it hungrily pulls in my cock. You love being filled by me, don't you Bones?" Leonard moaned his approval as Jim started thrusting. "Oh yes, you love the feeling. So shy at first, but so eager to play once you know how. Such an eager pet you are, Bones."

Removing one of his hands from Leonard's waist, Jim brought it forward and pinched one of Leonard's nipples. Leonard cried out again. "You like a little pain, don't you pet? Is that why you were so attracted to Madam Nyota? Because she carried a riding crop?"

Leonard's eyes widened, a small tendril of fear crawled in him, was Jim angry? He opened his mouth to respond, but shut it just in time. He hadn't been given permission to speak. Instead Leonard tried shaking his head.

Jim tut-tutted and twisted the soft flesh between his fingers, making Leonard moan again. "Now, now, pet. Don't lie to your master. Your eyes were practically begging her to hurt you."

"Or maybe it was the breasts?" Jim continued, "Many of the pets that have some preference for woman enjoy those." Leonard moaned slightly at the thought of those perfect, round, black and bouncy breasts.

"Oh yes, you definitely enjoyed those, didn't you Bones?" Jim purred thrusting in and out softly a couple times, his hands running lightly over Leonard's back. Leonard let out desperate little breaths, he was so close, so hard and Jim was teasing him!

"But I think," Jim growled darkly all of a sudden, "that you enjoyed the thought of pain more." Both of Jim's hands reached forward and grabbed Leonard's hardened nipples. He pinched and twisted at the same moment that he thrust himself in hard. Leonard cried out, his back arched and tears gathered at the edges of his eyes from the effort not to come. Not until he was given permission.

"Oh yes," Jim growled in approval as he kept Leonard's buds twisted, and continued his hard trusts, "You're quivering with desire right now, aren't you, pet? Beg for your release, Bones. Speak."

Leonard was shaking; it was too much, "Please master," Leonard cried out, "Please let your pet come, please!"

"Louder!" Jim ordered.

"Please!" Leonard begged, louder this time, "Please master! Please- ah!- master, master-ah!"

"Come," Jim growled, while simultaneously releasing himself into his quivering pet.

X

Sulu arrived about twenty minutes later, during which time both Leonard and the couch had been cleaned with a washcloth. Leonard had also had his collar removed, and put his clothes back on.

When Sulu arrived, it was easy to see he'd been crying. After Jim let him in Sulu sat down on the couch next to Leonard. "Oh, hey," Sulu said tiredly, "you're Jim's-"

"McCoy" Leonard interrupted, afraid that the word "pet" might make Sulu cry again, "my name is McCoy".

It was no use, Sulu burst into tears anyway ten seconds later, when Jim sat down on the other side of the man. "I just don't understand why!" he cried dramatically.

Leonard was reminded of the same kind of scenes he'd seen his friends go through after a nasty breakup. Which was kind of surprising. He and Jim certainly weren't romantically engaged (it was one of their rules, after all), and Leonard had assumed none of the other master/pet relationships were either.

But as the night wore on, and Sulu continued to half-sob and half-talk about what happened, Leonard realized Sulu really loved the kid. That was a very strange thought. Was romance between pet and master common?

While Leonard had initially been afraid that he'd only get in the way, he quickly realized that Sulu didn't care that he barely knew Leonard. Sulu continued talking while Leonard and Jim just sat there, occasionally nodding or muttering an agreement.

Apparently Sulu and Chekkov had been together for about two years- two years! And now he just suddenly leaves and it's not fair!- and hadn't started participating in the Master/pet play until eight months ago.

After an hour or two, Sulu was completely exhausted and fell asleep on Jim's shoulder. After re-arranging him to be lying down on the couch, Jim offered to drive Leonard home. It was late and Leonard refused to stay the night.

On the way back, Leonard broke the silence with a question, "Is it common for romantic relationships to occur between master and pets?"

Jim was silent for a moment, his hands tense on the steering wheel. "It's not uncommon," he finally acknowledged, "But don't worry McCoy, that won't happen to us."

Right. Of course not. Good. Leonard tried to convince himself that this was the response he wanted. But a small, annoying little part of him was just slightly disappointed.

X

Author's Note: Yes, yes. I know. I'm a terrible person for not posting anything for several months and then only a chapter half the length it normally is. If you're wondering if it's because I don't know where I'm going with the story, that's not true. I have the whole plot of the story all written out and planned.

I do apologize for being such a slow updater, but I really don't have time during the semester. Hopefully I'll be able to write more during the summer, when I don't have homework. For now, thank you all so much for sticking with me, and writing such nice reviews.


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